


Foster Home for Endangered Species

by jeza_red



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: F/M, M/M, and a lot of headcanoning, basically a very slow burn, sometimes past discovering Muzaka's alive and fromt here I'm freehanding it, with domestic stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:26:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4502472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeza_red/pseuds/jeza_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>M-21 has once seen Regis fight an opponent three times his size with busted ribs and a punctured lung and then watched him walk off the scene on his own.<br/>So what was taking the half-pint so goddamn long this time?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

M-21 could not, in the first moment, comprehend what’s going on.

Of course, he recognised torn flesh. Hell, he could probably localise broken bones and organ damage quicker than a trained medical professional. And it only served to prove how mundane the sight has become for him, how blood and meat were nothing special after years spent as an experiment that was pulled apart and put together time after time after time. He’s seen his share of bodily fluids, guts, and gore, and it was nothing if not educational.

But here he felt out of his depth. And the damage he was looking at wasn’t even all that excessive - the cut was deep, running down the outside of the Noble’s thigh, skin shredded in two wide lines and muscle beneath it torn and glistening under the harsh artificial lights of Frankenstein's lab. But the bleeding has stopped a while ago and the flesh was being slowly pulled together with an array of strange pins and clasps that were surely Boss’ invention.

The key thing, however, was that they shouldn’t be needed at all. Nobles didn’t need them.

Because they healed like crazy, faster sometimes than an eye could follow. And a wound like that? It was a mere scratch, a minor inconvenience at most for the first five minutes after it’s happened! Hell, M-21 has once seen Regis fight an opponent three times his size with busted ribs and a punctured lung, and then watched him walk off the scene on his own.

So what was taking the half-pint so goddamn long this time?!

Because the battle was long over, the spidery Union scum they've been fighting had crawled back to his masters. M-21 himself has been wounded, but his werewolf heart took care of the damage and all that was left was a pale scar that will be gone by the next week. And, want it or not, he knew that the Noble is even more resilient than him. Regis shouldn't be even winded by the encounter. So why was he so pale now, and why was he staying down on the bed instead of proclaiming that he's perfectly fine and marching out to find Seira?

M-21 didn't understand and it made him uneasy.

But what made him outright nervous was something else entirely. It was a pale shade of uncertainty entering Frankenstein’s unbreakable gaze when the Boss briefly looked up from his data pad.  

 

*

 

"Poison?" Tao's cheerful voice had a hard edge to it, his eyes narrowed more than it was usual. "You mean that someone poisoned our little boy?"  

Frankenstein sighed in exasperation,  but M-21's attention was completely absorbed by the way Seira's muscles locked and her whole presence started screaming 'distress' at him without moving one tenth of an inch.

It had to be the heart - it gave him the strangest instincts and abilities where his new companions were concerned. For example, he could feel the way Takeo shifted from foot to foot, a tiny little move that an eye could barely notice; he could downright smell his nerves. Even though the Boss explained that these were completely normal werewolf behaviours and pack instincts trying to reassert themselves in his body, it creeped him out.

M-21 wasn't sure that he wanted to consider himself as belonging to a pack of any kind when that meant being even more inhuman than he already was. Especially, when it made his insides flip like that at the news Boss shared over the dinner table.

They were almost all there, sans Rei and Regis. Him because he went somewhere with Muzaka. Regis,  because... he was still indisposed.

Indisposed.  

Wounded. Hurt.

Something shifted in his chest and M-21 had to stop a growl from escaping his lips.  Tao would never let him live the sound down.

"It's a sort of neurotoxin I haven't seen yet," Boss explained. He sounded fascinated by the prospect of a new discovery and at the same time sickened by its implications. Thankfully. Otherwise M-21 would have left the room and he was sure that the other two would follow after him. There were just some things that he wasn’t able to stand anymore and his stay at Ye-ran waged entirely on the fact that Frankenstein was not like his previous handlers. "From what I've managed to confirm so far, it was engineered to work within the body of a Noble, which is an accomplishment."

The shock at these words was almost palatable around the table.

"How is it even possible?" Takeo was the one to give it voice.  "Nobles are resistant to poisons!"

He didn't need to elaborate where he got this knowledge from. If Dr. Aris was anything like Crombell... Then she probably didn't care where she aired her grievances and who was present to hear them. They were all just experiments, after all, nothing they heard or said or did ever mattered.

“Usually, yes,” Boss nodded and his face took on a troubled look. It seemed as if he tried to avoid looking at Seira, who was sitting still and silent on the far end of the couch. Her hands were folded neatly on her lap - and only her fingers were pressed together so tightly, M-21 distantly feared the bones may break. “Their bodies are immune to every poison found in nature, apart from the ones produced by certain Noble bloodlines, but this doesn’t look like anything I've seen before. It has an unnecessarily complicated structure for the simple purpose it fulfils, but I can't deny its effectiveness."

M-21 wasn't at all interested in the chemical hoops and loops the Union's scientists had to jump through to get their newest baby up to par. What he wanted to know was when the Boss will have the antidote ready and when can they go and see the half-pint. His Wolf side kept sneaking glances at Seira and making these little worried sounds in his head, wanting to reassure the girl that all will be well. He knew better, though, than offer any sort of empty reassurances.

But, damn, was Frankenstein taking his time or what?

"The bottom line, boss." M-21 only barely kept his voice at a human level. He glanced towards Seira, making sure that the homeowner saw it. "What does it do and what are we doing with it?"

Because Takeo was too polite to outright ask and Tao seemed actually interested in the details, someone had to take the reins of the briefing and get to the point.

The Wolf really wanted to just go and see the kid.

“We are doing nothing.” Frankenstein gave him a look that said that he understands the rush, but is very unhappy with being interrupted mid-reveal. “I will have to find an antidote, because as of now, the toxin has made several radical changes to Regis’ metabolism.”

“What changes?” Takeo, once more, was the spokesperson for their concern.

They were really quite hopeless on their own, weren’t they, - M-21 realised not for the first time. With their near inability to process emotions at a human-level speed, internalising them on habit, out of fear of misstepping with their handlers. It was a hard thing to break, even in a supportive environment. Luckily, put together, the three former experiments almost made one functional person.

And that one person was more than enough to track down that Union scum and beat it against the wall until it drops, if it turns out that the damage their nr 3 took turned out to be serious.

 

*

 

Next day, the wounds were still present.

Which was quite surreal.

They were bound and hidden under the layers of white bandages and some sort of sharp smelling ‘medicine’, probably meant to aid healing, but mostly serving to irritate M-21’s nose. His sense of smell was always better than most, which was its own brand of torture when he was still in the Union’s lab. Smelling all the chemicals, sickness and blood day and night gave him an arm-long list of  issues just by itself. Frankenstein’s lab always smelled kind of neutral to him, thankfully.

“It’s a medical spray,” Regis answered plainly to his unasked question. The kid was startlingly sharp. “The homeowner said it’s supposed to help with infections.”

He sounded unsure at the last word, as if the sole notion was a novelty to him. Probably was.   

Hell, M-21 didn’t remember when was the last time any of his own wounds got infected. Sadistic bastard he might have been, but Crombell was also a neat freak, and the idea that any of his subjects was not ready to be experimented on at a moment’s notice always brought a sour look on his face and evictions amongst the lab’s staff. M-21 wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that Series M were all pickled in rubbing alcohol when unconscious only to avoid such occurrences.

“You’re never going to start calling him by his name, are you?”  He decided to focus on the least troublesome part of the sentence.

He should have came to visit the runt when the others did, early in the morning. It was just his luck that Shinwoo and Ikhan decided to drag Rai out of home an hour early to visit some newly opened bakery before the morning crunch emptied the shelves. It was enough for Frankenstein to just look in his direction and M-21 was pulling his suit jacket on and stepping into his shoes almost without thinking. The notion that someone like Him needed a bodyguard was amusing in on itself, but whatever the Boss decided went the way he decided it. Whatever made him feel better, M-21 was ready to do at the price of his own life. He owed the man, hard.  

Well, he did get a perfectly good Camilla pastry for his trouble, but missed on the opportunity to visit the runt in the safety of numbers.

He felt awkward on his own, standing in the white space boarded off from the rest of the lab with screens to create an illusion of privacy for the Noble resting on the bed. The bed seemed comfortable, at least, but other than that there was minimum of comfort provided in the place. A small side table was dominated by the plate of half-eaten breakfast, a pitcher of water and a very pink, very glittery Get Better card. Together with the card came a balloon tied to the frame of the bed that Regis painstakingly avoided looking at.

Tao’s intentions (because he was the only one crazy enough to contaminate Frankenstein’s workspace with tasteless junk and live to see another day) might have been good, but the neon pink floating heart did little to make the place more homely.

At least someone, (most probably Takeo, who was thoughtful like that) brought the kid a book so he doesn’t die of boredom he will never admit to.

“I brought you something.”

The lack of space on the bedside table forced him to step closer and put the paper bag he brought with him on the bed. The Wolf urged him to be careful and he told it to shut up, because Regis had one perfectly working leg left. He was not about to start coddling the kid!

Hell, he didn’t even know how to coddle someone to begin with.

Graceful hands went to open the bag and the Noble started pulling out its contents and laying them on the available space around him, more surprised with each item.

M-21 decided it's prudent to clarify. “This is from the girls,” he pointed at the small, sweet-smelling paper package. “They asked after you and Boss told them you’re... ill. They bought you a pastry, hope you like almonds, and a bottle of some fancy iced tea.”

“Huh.” An elegant arch of a pale eyebrow followed. Regis took a careful sniff of the box and somehow found a place for it on the table. “Give them my thanks.”

He didn’t address the ‘ill’ part in any way.

“This is from Ikhan.” M-21 pointed to a slim tablet in a cheerful green case. “He downloaded all of your schoolwork on it, don’t ask me how, I have no idea. Case being, he will continue to do it until you’re back at school. He also told me there are some shows for you to watch and games, in case you get bored of lazing about in bed.”

The gripe slipped out on a habit, but surprisingly Regis didn’t snap back. Which was perfectly okay, there was one more item in the bag.

“What is this?” The Noble asked, turning the little cardboard box in his hands like a curious cat.  

“Open up and see for yourself.”

M-21 expected a flick of a wrist to have the box opened, a tap of a sharp nail on the taped down lid. He didn’t expect to wait and watch the kid actually struggle with it.

The Wolf raised its ears in concern.

“My hands are numb,” Regis muttered, not looking at him, attention solely focused on the task. “Homeowner said it’s because of the blood loss and medicine.”

“Okay, give.” M-21 nonchalantly reached for the box. “I will do it.”

“I can do it.”

“But I can do it faster.”

“I am not crippled!”

“Do you want to know what’s inside or not?”

That was the usual, that was how they interacted and it managed to calm the beast a bit.  As long as the half pint had the strength to argue, he was okay. Annoying and exasperating, but okay.

“I am able to do it myself.”

"I'm trying to help you, dammit!" M-21 finally gave up and went for the kill, grasping the box. A short scuffle ensued and not a moment later the cardboard exploded in a small rain of strips of colourful tape.

M-21 would be angry if not for the completely bewildered expression on the Noble's face, that was positively hilarious.

"What... What are these...?" Regis stammered in confusion, picking one strip and looking at it as if the bright plastic foil was about to bite him.

M-21 raised an eyebrow and made sure it was the sarcastic one. "What, haven't you seen plasters yet?"

Come to think of it, there was a big chance that no, none of the Nobles had ever seen them. The was hardly a need for plasters in Lukedonia, was there?

"These are plasters?" Regis ignored the sarcasm in the name of curiosity. He was strange like that sometimes. "They are different from the ones the homeowner uses on us."

Ah, oh yeah, Frankenstein used that wide white medical tape to fix them up from time to time when using bandages would be a waste. It was thicker than normal and soaked in God knows what, and melted into the skin after a day and a half. Creepy, but functional and less cumbersome than walking around with open wounds.

It was nothing like the small, colourful band-aids Shinwoo bought for their sick comrade as a joke, unknowingly making the former experiment's day.

"These are special," M-21 explained with a face as stoic as he could make it. Subtly, he took a step back.

“Are they?” Regis looked sceptically at the white face of a cat printed on the pink wrapper. “How so?”

Another step. “They’re for kids like you.”

An enraged yell followed him all the way out of the lab.

Totally worth it.

If the kid could make this much noise, he was alright.

 

*

 

“What do you mean, messes with his metabolism?” Surprisingly, it was Tao, not Takeo, who raised his voice after hearing the unpleasant truth about the ‘neurotoxin’.

 

*

 

That feistiness pacified the Wolf for the first couple of days.

It went to sleep, content and calm, only periodically raising its ears whenever the children came to visit and whenever Tao dragged him back to the lab, to visit their sick Noble.

Regis acted exactly like he always did, high and mighty, and hilariously dignified in his star-spangled pyjamas; and that served to calm everyone down considerably. Well, except Takeo, who just was a worrywart.   

Frankenstein rarely left his lab anymore, which meant he’s taken the matter seriously and the results will soon appear. However scary and unpredictable the man could be, if there’s one thing that they could all have faith in, it was his stubbornness. He would not let some Union pedestrian defeat him in the field of science.

Three days later, however, that warm feeling of security shattered into almost visible pieces and the Wolf started clawing at M-21’s mind and shifting under his skin once more.

 

*

 

“Infection.” Frankenstein’s calm voice was the only thing that kept the Wolf from forcing a whine out of his lips. If the Boss was calm, then… “A simple oversight on my part, I regret to say. I did not expect his body to not be able to deal with bacteria, though I should have. At full strength, it never had to do it before. I have already introduced antibiotics, they should clear it up in a couple of days. There’s no reason to panic.”

The last was probably added for the sake of Seira, who was vibrating with tension and Takeo, who was wringing his hands like an old midwife. M-21 tried not to notice the way Boss looked in his direction as he said it. He couldn’t actually hear the beast could he? The man was strange, but not that strange, surely.

“I’m sorry.” The girl raised from the couch, poised and graceful like a ballerina. M-21 never got over that effortless elegance the Nobles exuded and had a feeling he never will. “I will go to Regis, if you don’t mind.”

Frankenstein nodded. “Please, do come back in time for dinner. I want you both healthy.”

“Of course.”

Oh, M-21 knew the twitch on the blond man’s face.

In some way he became used to it. To the shifts in Boss’ posture, to the way the pressure of air around Him changed; to all these little things that his eyes didn’t see, but his body nonetheless detected and reacted to before his mind caught up with it. As if, unknowingly, he had become a part of some complicated machine running this house and everything he did was a logical follow-up of the other two’s decisions.

“I will go with you.” His lips said before Frankenstein moved his hand in this way that meant he requests an escort for the young lady. From the corner of an eye he saw Takeo shift back. Huh, he saw it too, didn't he? Too slow. No matter, letting him go and see the sick Noble would do nothing for the Japanese man’s nerves; better have Tao distract his tender heart here.

The thing that irked him, thought, was that he wasn’t really that eager to go himself.

A comparison to a dog appeared in his mind and was ruthlessly killed before it had a chance to grow limbs.

Wouldn’t Seira want some privacy to talk to Regis? If she wanted to go alone she would not tell him outright, of course, being too polite… and M-21 wasn't as attuned to the pure-bred Nobles’ wavelengths yet to understand when they said something without words. And god, how annoying was that!

How many times was it now that he was stuck between either these two or, oh joy, Rael, watching their interactions that for all intents and purposes were non-existent, and yet still… were? Things were relayed and signalled and understood with no more than eye movements, things that went way over his head most of the time.

That was one of the reasons for his caustic sense of humour when it came to the two Noble runts under their roof. Bringing the conversation down to human level was simple and amusing.

“You don’t have to come with me.”

Seira’s quiet voice brought him out of his head and stunned into momentary silence. And that was just creepy. He wasn’t that obvious with his unwillingness, was he?

She was facing the doors of the elevator as she spoke, but her eyes did that little side-twitch thing that probably meant all her attention was directed at him or something. “If you don’t wish to go, you don’t have to.” She repeated.

He wasn’t fluid yet in Noble-speech, but he knew the basics. And the number one rule to the language was: disable the layer of combat-politeness as quickly as possible if you want to get anywhere before dinner. “Do you want to go alone?”

Confronted with a direct question, a Noble had no place to retreat.

M-21 hoped that she knows him well enough to understand that he won’t feel hurt by her decision either way. He tried not to pay attention to the way his heart stuttered when the girl shook her head.

 

*

 

The kid looked… ill.

Gaunt and sweaty, flushed with fever, he looked at them with half-lidded glassy eyes. M-21 could freely admit that he’s never seen the runt look so inelegant. Vulnerable.

Human.

“You look like crap,” were the first words that slipped out of his lips. Damn.

At least they’ve got them a reaction. Regis turned his head to the side with visible effort, his glare was a weak shadow of the usual fare.

“So… coarse,” he muttered. “As usual.”

His breathing was coming quick and shallow. How high was the fever anyway? Frankenstein’s calm reassurances didn’t reflect the actual state of affairs.

M-21 passed Seira and before he even realised what he’s doing, his hand landed on the runt’s forehead. Unceremoniously as you please.

Good thing that rudimentary control over his blood vessels made him immune to blushing. Two wide-eyed stares were enough to awake a shred of self-consciousness in him. “What?” M-21 growled, playing it off as nothing. “No one ever took your temperature?”

He ignored the way Regis’ eyes strayed to the digital thermometer laying on a tray on the bedside table and the way Seira lifted one of her hands up and stared at it, as if she tried to decipher if her limb possesses the same ability as his.

For the creatures so immensely strong, Nobles were ridiculously hopeless.

“Well, you are warmer than it’s healthy,” M-21 mused absently, trying to keep his dignity intact. He had no idea what was the healthy human temperature, but suspected that it was nowhere near this. As for a Noble…

Seira twitched and then froze when a wide male hand landed on her forehead.

Regis stared, some scathing reproof about touching the lady so callously surely at the tip of his tongue.

M-21, standing with his hands touching two young Nobles, contemplated tearing his chest open and ripping the heart out and stomping on it. Twice. In Takeo’s combat boots.

Whatever the hell was going on with him?!

“Eh,” he scoffed, desperately searching for a way out of this awkward situation. “Sorry. Wanted to… get a baseline.”

When he removed his hand, the girl lifted hers, touching her forehead in wonder, expecting to… feel her own temperature? Regis glared at M-21 and opened his mouth to voice his displeasure – and then closed it with a snap when a slender palm touched his face.

Seira’s eyes widened and she released a tiny gasp of surprise. “Your temperature is high.”

Goddamnit, what has he doing?!

Teaching these two about human behaviour, it would seem. He almost laughed at the thought. His grasp of humanity was tenuous at best, and made more so with every month of the werewolf heart beating in his chest.

“Humans... do it?” Regis looked at him with suspicion, clearly expecting deception, even in this worn out state.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm,” the Noble huffed in thought. After a moment he put his own hand to his forehead and with the other gently touched Seira’s wrist. “This seems like a... highly inefficient method of... gauging temperature. Unless humans... have very sensitive palms?”

“Nah,” M-21 caught himself thinking it through. “It’s just something they did when there were no thermometers. It was all people had.”

“People touch a lot.” Seira spoke quietly.

“They do, don’t they? I guess they just like to know that others are okay.”

“How is touching... conclusive to that?” Regis asked. “They can see... as well?”

“Well… It’s a care thing.” What was he getting himself into? “There’s a thousand different ways to touch someone.” He was sweating. This was so not his field. Takeo was the feeling one, the caring one. He would know about tenderness. “And some of them are casual and impersonal, like a pat on the back or a handshake. But then, eh…”

“Children touch in different ways.” Seira helped him out. She seemed surprised to make the connection. “They are always close, especially Ikhan and Han Shinwoo. And Suyi and Yuna.”

“Yeah, they’re friends. They care for one another.” The kids were simple.

A frown crossed Seira’s face. “But… Yuna and Suyi touch the boys less than each other, and the boys don’t touch them almost at all. Do they care less?”

M-21 stared, dumbfounded. Did they seriously didn’t… know? Were they so far removed from humans that they viewed them as strange in every aspect, even one as basic as this? “You don’t… I mean, boys don’t usually grab girls in headlocks and push them around...”

“Why?” Regis’s curiosity overrode his exhaustion for a few moments. “If it’s a... friendly gesture, it doesn’t seem... fair…”

“Well, you can’t. It’s a… cultural thing. Girls are wea… human girls are physically more fragile, most of the time. They don’t roughhouse like guys do. And the guys… if they’ve been raised right, like Ikhan and Shinwoo, they won’t want to make them… eh, distressed? It’s a sign of respect, too.”

“But Tao touches everyone very often.” Seira chimed in, with a shade of a blush high on her cheeks.

“Tao is…” Mental. “Not a fan of personal space.”

“Oh.”

They nodded, but M-21 doubted that they understood a whole lot from his choppy explanation. Or maybe they did, who knew with these creatures? They seemed to communicate on frequencies unreachable to other people.

“You know what, seeing as you’re bouncing with energy and whatnot.” M-21 threw a quick, sharp smile at the prone Noble before looking to Seira, who was already seated in the plastic chair that wasn’t there the last time. ”I will go. Let you have some privacy to talk and, well… I will go.”

Before he loses another little part of his dignity by doing something completely outlandish or gets pulled into another conversation he was woefully unprepared for.

Maybe it was a high time to let Takeo take over the chaperoning duty?

 

*

 

The fever didn’t go away after two days and on the third one former experiments were banned from entering the lab. Frankenstein’s iron smile deterred all inquiries about Regis’ state, every answer being a calm reassurance that the Noble was doing well, considering.

Considering? Considering what?  

Considering that he has been poisoned? That the poison disabled his immune system and brought him down to, more or less, human level? Considering that for the first time in his life the kid was sick and his body didn’t seem to know what to do with this fact?

 

*

 

On Wednesday, for the first time in a week Regis joined them for breakfast – and when he stepped into the room all commotion died.

M-21 almost dropped his spoon and Tao lost the half of a toast he was stealing from Takeo’s plate. Rael’s eyes flashed wide open and Seira tensed in her seat. He… well, Rai was busy with his ramen.

The runt was struggling his way out of the elevator, slowly. His face was pale and his lips tight. Out of the artificial lights of the labs he didn’t look any better. M-21 had an impression that the dark rings under his eyes deepened, even, and the flush of sickness was someway more pronounced in the warm daylight.  

The way he looked was one thing, but the reason for the wordless shock was something else.

The wounded leg was covered in a brace, from ankle to thigh,  and Regis was using crutches.

Which was just ridiculous.

Especially the way the runt struggled with the things, wavering on his one good leg, eyebrows pulled together in pained focus. Frankenstein was walking behind him, patient as a saint, not minding the slow pace, and M-21 knew that one of his hands is raised behind the Noble’s back to support him if he swayed too much. Out of sight, so the kid’s battered pride doesn’t get even more damaged.

The sound of Rael’s fork hitting the floor was audible like a gunshot in the stunned silence.

“What… what is this contraption?” Kertia snapped out, eyes wide and bewildered, fixed on the mass of straps and carbon fibre and plastic. “Regis, explain, why are you wearing this thing?”

M-21 stifled a growl at the crude tone – because the blond was still tactless and antagonising at the best of times, - just in time to be surprised by the sharp glare sent towards Rael from none other than Takeo.

Takeo, who was the first one to shake off the shock and stand from his place on the couch to get a chair for Regis, and arrange a plate for him.

“It’s a brace, blondie,” Tao took it on himself to lighten up the atmosphere with cheerfulness that seemed amazingly genuine, even in the face of the growled ‘Don’t call me that!’ from the blond in question. “It’s used to immobilise the limb when it’s been sprained, broken or wounded, to prevent more damage from happening. Hey, Regis!” Sudden call startled the Nobles into a flinch. “Can I write on it?”

“It’s not a cast, baka,” Takeo corrected from the kitchen, absentmindedly slipping a Japanese insult.

“Why would you want to write on it?” Regis’ startled inquiry echoed Rael’s.

Tao smiled with all his teeth showing. “It’s tradition!”

Takeo rolled his eyes. “With casts, not braces.”

That got Seira interested.

“Tradition?”

And everything that got rid of the worried frown on her face was welcome.

Oh! M-21 mentally smacked his forehead, understanding what the other two were doing.

“Yes, tradition, Miss Seira.” The genius switched his ‘preaching to the masses’ mode on with ease. “No one knows where or when it really started, but it’s a sanctified tradition of the humans to write on the casts of their brethren.”

“Why?” Now Rael seemed curious too.

Even He stopped staring into his ramen and raised his eyes to the modified human.

“Why, you ask,” Tao rubbed his chin in thought. “Well, there are as many reasons as there is people, to tell you the truth…”

M-21 listened to the lengthy lesson on the cast decoration, that branched out into the discussion of the merits of felt tip markers against crayons and ballpoint pens, and not for the first time wondered if Tao was born with the ability to bullshit his way through every situation or was it artificially implemented in some way. He heard an almost inaudible sigh from his left and a quick glance that way brought him into eye contact with the Boss. So, they were both thinking the same, huh?

Scary how often it happened lately.

The only other person at the table who wasn’t hanging on the genius’ every word was Takeo (probably used to muting the chatter of his partner), whose attention seemed to rest solely on the wounded Noble sitting at his right.

M-21 felt the hair raise on the back of his neck. His wolf shifted and whined uneasily to the former experiment’s confusion. Were they in danger? What was going on?

What’s wrong with you, mutt? He thought sharply at the part of his mindscape where the wolf resided.

Takeo bent over Regis. “Here, let me help you with that.” He took the crutches that the young Noble rested on the back of his chair and put them away, then stood behind the kid and wordlessly adjusted his chair two inches closer to the table, pushing him into a more comfortable distance from the plate. “There, better.”

Regis was looking at him, wide-eyed. “…thank you.”

Oh yeah, this, M-21 nodded to himself. And then he froze. Oh no.

If Tao’s main safemode was a Charming Wiseass, annoying, but harmless, Takeo’s modus operandi under pressure was downright intimidating.

And now The Caring was turned up to eleven and the Wolf could almost smell it in the air!

It released a soft whine in the back of M-21’s head and from the corner of his eye the man could see Tao subtly shift away from the Japanese. He masked it well too, the bastard, pretending to lean over Rai to sketch a rough outline of a cast in the air around his arm. He, for the part, looked perplexed by the idea of bones that need help to meld themselves together. Unfocused glaze over Frankenstein’s eyes signalled that the man was already compiling a lesson on human anatomy he will present to his Master as soon as possible.

Seira stopped being so tense, thank god, and even smiled a few times when Tao’s tirade took a sharp turn into the realm of unashamed speculation.

Even Rael seemed interested,  and well... disgusted.

He was a tough one to take a clear read of. The kid’s personality was prickly as all hell and screamed ‘unresolved issues’ loudly and clearly, - but at the same time, his unapologetic assholishness was broken up with a shocking dose of the Nobles’ inherent dignity and poise.

When he didn’t act like a condescending ass, Rael Kertia seemed to take some sort of responsibility for the two younger Nobles. Even the way he reacted to the brace showed that: immediate concern that came out as a need for explanation.

As far as M-21 was aware, the kid didn’t visit Regis once, - they clearly didn’t like each other, - and his psychotic crush on Seira was not even vaguely appreciated by the girl. And yet… they kind of stuck together on a very instinctive plane the wolf saw clearly and M-21 was slowly learning to notice. An instinctive reaction that Regis and Seira had towards the children and, annoyingly, the three former experiments.

And talking about the half-pint…

He was holding up rather well under the ray of concentrated Caring. It probably helped that he was mostly bewildered by the whole thing, trying to keep up with Tao’s wild tale and Takeo’s inquiries about his health at the same time as attempting to act inconspicuous. And he was mostly succeeding. But there was something…

Watching a Noble eat was always something of an experience. Like going to an art gallery – not that M-21 has ever been in one, but he watched enough TV to get it. It was like watching the most polished android on the planet. Every move even and steady, never too quick, never stalling. They didn’t talk during, didn’t look around, eyes firmly on the plate or staring into space over it. No matter if they ate out of an expensive porcelain or a takeout box, the process was always elegant and clean.

Damn, He could eat ramen noodles without getting even a drop of soup on his white suit. If that wasn’t magic, what was?

But this time… there was something wrong.

Regis wasn’t properly removed from the task, he eyed the bowl of soup with intensity that was usually reserved for his enemies. And his movements were less mechanically smooth, as if some sand got stuck in his joints… As if…was Regis struggling? Maybe his muscles were all messed up from lying in bed for so long or the fever, or his hands were still numb…

Oh God, he was turning into Takeo.

The Caring was spreading.

“I am finished,” M-21 said out loud, voice tight. He stood from the table and took his half-full plate with him. “Thank you.” He nodded to the others and resolutely ignored a flash of panic in Tao’s eyes. “Have a nice meal. If anyone needs me, I will be in the gym.”

Frankenstein’s eyes burned holes in his back, but M-21 didn’t dare to turn around. He planned to go to the gym and work himself hard until he sweats and breathes concentrated manliness. No more of that Caring bullshit he had no idea how to approach.

 

*

 

“Oh no, what happened?” Ikhan’s shrill voice was enough to make all the enhanced ears in the vicinity flinch. The tiny genius and his conjoined redheaded twin both rushed over to the startled Noble, bending over his braced leg and in their usual manner completely disregarding the notion of personal space. “Regis, are you alright? Did you break your leg?”

“That doesn’t look good, bro,” Shinwoo nodded sagely, eying the brace. “What did you do?”

The girls’ reaction was more polite, but the worry on their faces was clear as they joined the questioning.

“Does it hurt?”

“Is this why you weren’t coming to school?”

Panic and confusion. Both were so clearly painted on the kid’s face that M-21 sniggered quietly into his sleeve, pretending to cough.

However, when the Noble answered, his voice was polite and level. “It’s not broken. My leg has been wounded in an accident.”

“What? Aw, man, this is bad news,” Shinwoo as usual spoke for the group. “And just as the soccer season is about to start.”

“Shinwoo!” Yuna scolded her friend good-naturedly.

“What? I wanted to ask him to join the team!” The redhead raised his hands in defence. “We would use another player since Ikhan doesn’t want to join!”

“I like my bones they way they are, thank you very much: unbroken!”

“What is this soccer?”

The silence that fell after these words was instant and scalding.

Even Tao and Takeo, both about finished with the dishes from breakfast, stopped to look around.

There was commotion afterwards, boys shouting one over another trying to explain what football is all about, running from one end of the living room to another, swapping names of the famous players that meant completely nothing to the stunned Noble staring at them like a sane person looks at madmen: curious and fearing for their life in one go. It took, surprisingly, Suyi to snap some order into the crazy duo. Then she sat down next to Regis and calmly explained to him the rules of football.

It took no more than twenty minutes – and M-21 had to admit there have never been 20 minutes in this house when the kids and silence were present at the same time. But, lo and behold, miracles happened.

It has all ended prematurely. He stepped out of his room, posed and sharp like a magazine spread came to life. At an unspoken signal everyone rose to their feet and marched to the door.

Everyone, but the half-pint.

“Take care, Regis!”

“Get well fast!”

“I will upload today’s classes and the new episode of the Idol as soon as I can!”

“Bye.”

M-21 walked out last.

It was another habit that the other two and Frankenstein allowed him to have – the privilege of closing the door after everyone has been accounted for. It gave him an annoyingly good feeling he didn’t really wish to investigate closer – but it annoyed him even more that today the feeling was absent.

 

*

 

In the evening, Regis ate the curry as if he’d never had one before.

Well… Seira was a magnificent cook and it obviously brought her pleasure when her dishes were well received. Tao never lost a chance to make her blush with his loud and enthusiastic praises and even reserved Takeo from time to time hummed in pleasure over some particularly tasty morsel. M-21 tried to look appreciative and hoped that it will be enough; it was not Seira’s fault that he was too sensitive to strong spices. His damned body was pretty much conditioned to thrive on the tasteless sludge it was fed in the labs. He was sure that everything served at this table was tasty by human standards.

“Regis.”

Rael’s cold voice carried over the table, freezing the kid with a spoon raised and that annoyed twitch of his left eyebrow.

“Yes?”

Kertia was sitting ramrod straight over his own plate and stared at the younger in that calculating, slightly disgusted way he seemed to reserve for all things ‘human’ and ‘inferior’ he didn’t understand yet. However, M-21 has never seen that look pointed at a fellow Noble yet.

“Show some restraint, will you?” The blonde drawled. “You act like a boor.”

A storm was brewing. M-21 looked at his half-full plate and tried to decide if he’s hungry enough to stay and get in the way of it.

Sadly, his stomach solved the problem with a loud growl. And even if it stayed quiet,  Tao’s and Takeo’s feet hooked around the legs of his chair would make the escape very ungraceful. Bastards still didn’t forgive him for the last time he ditched them in an awkward situation.

“What do you mean, Rael?” Regis’ face was marble smooth.

“Your elegance leaves a lot to wish for today.”

Uh-oh.

“Does it, now.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Well, you have been surely paying a lot of attention to me. It’s hardly elegant to lose focus of one’s own meal.”

So, it was going to be this kind of an argument.

“As an older Noble present, it is my duty to watch over the youth to make sure that the standards of proper behaviour are being upheld.”

“I never suspected that you would be the one to worry about proper behaviour.”

“Then you are not very perceptive.”

Oh, God, why now? Why there? Why did Raizel has to be absent?  

“It’s not hard to see the casual disregard you carry for the rules of proper conduct,” Regis sneered at the other Noble, finally breaking the role.

Rael’s face also cracked. “I would teach you all about it, if you weren’t crippled…”

“Shut up, both of you, or none will finish his meal!”

The stares abounded. Takeo, for his part, looked petrified with one hand raised to cover his lips, but the words already escaped them, so there was little purpose in the gesture now.   

As long as he knew him, M-21 has never heard the Japanese man raise his voice outside of combat, or lose his composure like that. It was strange and that strangeness was enough to stall the argument in place. Even Kertia seemed to understand that something unusual has just happened.

Hell, The Caring was wreaking havoc on their comrade, wasn’t it?

“I agree,” Tao spoke with an easy smile. “It’s incredibly rude to argue at the table, you know? Young boys like you should focus on eating.”

“Young…?!” Kertia protested.

“Well, yeah. Otherwise why were you acting like pre-schoolers just a minute ago?”

It had to be given to the genius, the way he delivered his digs had an air of finality to it: the smile, the charm, the complete lack of eye contact. It was hard to argue with him like that without it devolving into a tantrum and Rael had to realise it, because he snapped his teeth together. He stared at the table as if he could set it on fire with sight alone.

Maybe he could, who knew.

Meanwhile, Regis looked properly chastised.

“I apologise,” he muttered. “I…”

“Can we go back to eating?” Takeo sighed; the angry flush on his face settled and he was back to his old, stoic self. “Seira worked hard to prepare today’s dinner and here we are, letting it go cold.”

That got everyone back to their plates.

M-21 was about to slap himself in the face.

Yep, here they were, all grown men (some more than grown) – but take away their handler and they could barely have a civil meal together. No wonder Seira was so silent all the time, she was surrounded by idiots!

The rest of the dinner was spent in silence, everyone eyeing the others, and even Tao’s usual enthusiasm dimmed. But they ate as much as they could, ex-humans asking for seconds, to make it up to Seira.

“Are you sure you don’t want a second helping?” Takeo turned to Regis before requesting his own refill. “I imagine you need a lot of nutrients to heal completely.”

“Oh?” The Noble snapped his eyes to him. “So that’s what it is?”

“That?”

That? So there was something else happening with the kid…

“I feel… strange lately,” Regis’ face clouded with confusion. He put a hand on his stomach. “Here is… strange. Feels empty.”

“You’re hungry?” Tao’s surprise couldn’t be more evident. He even flipped his fringe to the side, to stare at the Noble.

Regis repeated the word like a strange concept. “Hungry?”

“Well, yes. When you feel like you have to eat?”

“…have to eat?” The three Nobles at the table blinked simultaneously.

The three ex-humans blinked in response.

“Wait,” Takeo raised one hand to stall the conversation, the other busy squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Wait a moment. You want to tell me that you don’t have to eat?”

Rael’s voice was full of undisguised disgust as he echoed, “You have to eat?”

M-21’s brain officially left the scene.

“But, but you are eating now!” Tao tried to make sense of the situation. “You eat breakfasts and dinners! And when the kids come over. And you… you are not taking second breakfast to school,” his voice lowered as the realisation struck. “And you don’t eat on the town when the kids manage to drag you out. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you eat outside of the house…”

“Well, of course we are eating here!” Rael snapped out. “It would be rude not to, especially when it’s Seira who’s prepared it! And since the Noblesse likes these shared meals, we have no choice, but to accompany Him! Though I have no idea why do we have to do it every day. You humans, stuffing yourself like animals at every opportunity!”

“This is too strange,” Takeo summed up, expression troubled. “Let’s focus on the important part. Regis, did you tell Frankenstein about it?”

“No… why? It’s not important.” The Noble made a dismissive gesture. “As you said, it’s probably about the nutrition.”

“It makes sense, but still…”

“Just give him something to eat and we will tell the Boss when he’s back from the lab,” M-21 decided to enter the conversation. “No one has died from a dessert yet.”

Tao jumped at attention. “There’s a dessert?!”

Seira blushed, noded, and that was the end of it.  

 

*

 

The thing was, it wasn’t the end of it.

Because the way Frankenstein’s eyebrow rose at the news about their youngest Noble’s new eating habits was telling. It wasn’t the good eyebrow, the sarcastic one. Not even the surprised one.  

Exactly opposite. It was the one that spoke of the lack of surprise, of an expectation being met.

M-21 tried not to dig into it any deeper than that, but he had a feeling that this time the Boss was holding his cards suspiciously close to the chest. There was no boasting and no lectures this time, no warnings about the importance of adhering to his health advice.

Just that look.

That strange look M-21 could swear he’s seen already, but for the life of him could not remember where.

 

*

 

A full week passed before Frankenstein decided to remove the brace. It was a test drive, as he said, to see if the skin and muscle healed sufficiently for Regis to put the usual amount of pressure on it.

Judging by the amount of food the brat was putting away lately, it should be in full working order and then some.

Takeo worried about their Nr 3, but Tao still didn’t seem to get over the novelty of a Noble feeling hunger. He was usually the first one to offer Regis an energy bar or a piece of cake, or a sandwich, never failing to ask the confused kid if he likes this one better than the last.

But that was Tao for you, mowing over embarrassment like he didn’t know what it was.

 

*

 

“It feels uncomfortable.”

M-21 was sure that he wasn’t supposed to overhear the talk between the brat and their boss, but there was little he could do about it. Down on his knees, scrubbing the stubborn stain on the carpet behind the couch, he wasn’t exactly hiding – not in a house full of enhanced ears, at least. If the Boss wanted him out, he would tell him. Same with Regis.

But why was it always him who got trapped in these situations?

“Do you feel unwell? Maybe it’s a food allergy of some sort.”

“Not exactly… It’s not illness. I just don’t appreciate being woken up by this hunger-feeling. It’s unsightful.”

A chuckle from the Boss.

“It’s something to get used to, I am sure.”

A pause and a silent voice, “I would rather not get used to it. This weakness is enough.”

M-21 tensed. Weakness?

“I hope it won’t come to that.” The Boss was not speaking in definitives and it was worrying. “The toxin’s structure is more complex that I suspected at first. If I had a bigger batch to test, I could get a base readings faster, but as it is… since it’s mutating in your body, it’s harder to pinpoint its weaknesses. But I am positive that it won’t take long.” A pause. “Are you worried about the date…?”

The date?

Another pause. “Yes. A bit… I don’t want to worry Ganju-nim unnecessarily.”

“I think it can be hardly called ‘unnecessary’, he would surely like to know about your health.”

“Still, it may pass and he would worry for nothing.” A deep breath. “He has many duties as a Lord’s advisor, my failings should not add to that.”

What the hell? His failings? The hell was the kid on about? He wasn’t the one that lost his concentration for one crucial moment during the fight!

Throwing the scrubbing brush at that empty white head for a second seemed almost worth being discovered. Almost.

“Well then, you never know, it may be enough to jumpstart your cells into fighting the toxin. I am not sure exactly how this change occurs…”

The voices and the footsteps disappeared into the hum of the elevator, but it took another five minutes for M-21 to sit up and straighten his aching back. His head was full of confusion (the Boss wasn’t on top of the situation, was he? Why? How could that happen?) and  worry (Regis was feeling ‘weak’. What did it mean? Weak in what sense and to what degree?), but the biggest part was taken over by curiosity (what was the ‘it’ that had the potential to change the situation? That ‘date’?) and the need to smack the runt over the head.

“Unnecessary.” What tripe! As if Gejutel wouldn’t drop everything and teleport into Ye-ran to hover over the stupid moron at the smallest word! How could Regis not know this? How could…

Oh. Wait. Nobles.

M-21 threw the brush into the bucket of water with a bit more strength than it was strictly necessary.

The brat knew. Of course he knew. And that was the point.

 

*

 

The brace stayed off next day, but the wound wasn’t gone. M-21 could see it in the stiff way Regis walked and the traces of confusion that appeared on his face whenever he stepped wrong and a twinge of pain shot up the limb. Like he was expecting the leg to be perfectly fine and was startled every time it reminded him that it isn’t.

Still, he could walk and didn’t have to use crutches anymore, which was a good thing. It sure improved the life expectancy of the furniture in the house. And he looked better, too, healthier, back to his natural healthy rosy paleness…

M-21 shook his head in confusion. What was that, just now? Rosy? Why did he even know that word?

Tao threw him a questioning glance from the left, where he was drying the plates, and M-21 shrugged that he’s alright. On his other side, Takeo was in some sort of a Zen zone as he painstakingly covered the dishes in a flowery smelling foam and handed them over to be rinsed.

It was… relaxing, in a way. They were made, literally, to fight and die in the line of duty they’ve never chose… they weren’t humans, they weren’t ‘beings’ even, they were things and numbers and meaningless letters assigned to those not worth wasting names on. They were objects, then. Now, the quiet domesticity of the tasks Frankenstein set was still novel enough for the three of them to perform them with enthusiasm. Small things like that were another part of normality they were slowly reclaiming under the watchful eyes of a mad scientist and his immortal master.

“Hey, big brother, can I have some more water?”

The redheaded blur appeared at his left elbow and M-21 fought down the urge to snap at the boy. Instead he redirected the nervous twitch into swiping the glass from the kid’s hand, deftly refilling it from the tap and handing it back. All without looking.

“…big brother, you’re so cool.”

Well, it was nice to hear.

“Show off,” Tao growled at him, but there was humour in his voice, so M-21 wasn’t worried.

The clamour in the living room was slowly dying out and by the time the last glass was dry and safe in the cupboard, the kids were gathering their belongings and shouting goodbyes to the Nobles left behind.

“Stay well, Regis!” Ikhan patted the Noble on the back. “See ya at school on Monday!” He seemed excessively glad to have his companion in shortness back.  

When the door behind the happy foursome closed, Rai stood up and quietly walked back to his room. He was probably tired after a day spent with such an enthusiastic crowd. Rael and Regis snapped to their feet in respect, of course, and Seira left to finish her homework.

M-21 still couldn’t get over that fact. She was over two hundred and still did her equations and written assignments like every other kid in the world. Regis too.

Hm, maybe for them it was like doing the chores for him and the other two? Something new and interesting? Huh.

“I will get it.”

“No.”

“It’s my turn to do it.”

“I didn’t do my chores for the last two weeks.”

“And with a good reason. Sit down Landegre, and watch some more cartoons before you damage yourself any more.”

“Oh no, it’s starting again,” Takeo groaned. “He’s worse with Kertia than he’s with you, M-21.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked and flinched when Tao elbowed him in the ribs. Tangled as he was in the process of removing his apron, he couldn’t retaliate in time. “Oy!”

“Naah, these two are at least amusing when they have a go at it,” the genius completely ignored his scowl. “Come to think of it, they haven’t been arguing in a while... “

“Maybe they’ve buried the hatchet?” Takeo mused.

M-21 was not amused. “I am standing right here.”

“Yes, tall and handsome as a peach!” Tao had the gall to chuckle and pat his chest with his folded marigolds. “Hard to miss, really.”

“Peaches are hardly handsome, though,” muttered Takeo with his own little smile. "Are you implying that our sour comrade needs to shave more often?"

"Sour? But he's as sweet as sugar inside!  Deep, deep, deep inside, I mean."

There had to be something to be said for being grown in one test tube together, because, for the life of him M-21 couldn’t understand the rules on which these two operated sometimes. At one moment they couldn’t be more different from one another, and in the next they were ganging up on him like they could read each other’s minds.

“I said I will do it!”

“And I said leave cleaning to me!”

The three ex-humans turned at the raised voices.

Two Noble brats were still in a heated argument over the trash in the living room, staring across the table like a pair of angry cats. Just when Takeo decided to enter the fray and calm them down, however, Regis scoffed, reached for the empty bowl closest to him... and the things went downhill from there.

Rael, never one to be ignored, moved to stand in the younger’s way in a blink and reached to take the bowl away. Regis, not willing to give it back, pulled it out of reach. Rael’s fingers grasped his forearm and…

Something snapped, the sound deafening in the sudden silence.

From where he stood, M-21 could see the smirk fading from the blond’s face, his widening eyes moving down, to the limb trapped in his grip. His already pale face turning chalk-white in confusion.

M-21 didn’t understand at first. Or didn’t want to…

But then a stifled gasp cut through the silence like a knife.

Takeo was the first one to react, of course he was. When Regis’ forearm started to bend in the way it had absolutely no business to be bending in, he was already there, pushing Rael away and grasping it firmly between his palms. It was a testament to Kertia’s shock that he stepped back obediently, hands up, as if scalded.

“I… I didn’t…” he stammered. “Didn’t mean…”

But his words were cut by Takeo’s loud, firm, “Downstairs, now!”

Regis’ weak protest ended as soon as he tried to take his hand back and the sniper had to grab him around the waist when his knees gave out from pain.

“Downstairs.” Takeo repeated. “Now.” And this time there was no discussion, everyone moved.

 

*

 

That Frankenstein was not impressed was an understatement.

“I leave you alone for a day.” The man glared at them from behind his desk one hour of panic and shouting later. The three ex-humans and one Noble bowed their heads in shame. “One day. And you bring him back with broken bones!”

“How is it even possible?” Tao hissed back, unbothered by the death glare he was receiving. “Rael didn’t grab him that hard! It shouldn’t break!”

Kertia nodded, somewhat jerkily, seemingly still in shock over the whole thing.

The blond man sighed and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. He didn’t look defeated, but the normal level of confidence was absent from his posture. “That’s what I was trying to explain to you before,” he said. “Regis’ body was changed by the toxin. His metabolism slowed down and the structure of his tissues weakened. For all intents and purposes, his body is on par with human’s now.”

“What… What do you mean, human’s?!” Rael came out of his funk. “Regis is a Noble! Are you saying that he’s weak now?”

“Watch it, Kertia.” The glare returned. “I am saying that he’s… fragile. Until I find the antidote or the blasted thing runs its course, Regis will be weakened and as, uh, delicate as the children are. So I would be very grateful,” the words were punctuated with heavy pauses between, “if you could all try to moderate your strength around him. Is that clear?”

The answering ‘yes’ was uniformly heartfelt and full of dread.

*

The cast had a little flower on it. In pink felt tip.

M-21 hated it.

It was the right hand too and he hated it even more, because now he was cursed to watch the runt struggle with all the tasks that shouldn’t be a problem for him. The wolf was an asshole about it too, whining and shifting, all the time trying to force him to help.

Regis never asked for help, though, so he didn’t listen to the beast.

Regis seemed to be strangely okay with the situation, in fact. Slightly confused with the interest his cast was evoking, but other than that he took it with the usual grace.

Which was even more evident when all the other occupants of the house kept panicking - each in their own personal way, if course.

M-21 wasn't panicking. Not even a bit. Nope. Not yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things to note here:  
> 1\. I am completely freehanding werewolf canon for Noblesse. As far as we know, it may be true, ey? ;)  
> 2\. I am so not in control of this story anymore. Shinwoo? Where did you come from? Why do I keep throwing rocks at M21? Tao, stop flirting!  
> 3\. Shinwoo's ancestry is made up by me in 100%

He skipped so many meals that he was sure one more and the boss will start deducting it from his paycheck. It wasn't that he didn't want to eat with the others, of course not, he just.... Felt like eating out. Yes, he just tried to familiarise himself with the local cuisine. It was a good idea to get to know the area not only as a battlefield, to meet some new people. There was a museum about 15 minutes from the school and he never knew about it. A lot of street vendors too, probably brought in by the amount of wealthy teenagers just around the corner.

He didn't want to think about the atmosphere in the house that became unbearable lately, - enough that the had a feeling he’s the only one to feel it. Maybe it’s because of the werewolf heart, that damned pack instincts that tried to reassert themselves in his head, pulling him in ten different directions all at once.

If only someone finally acknowledged the problem at hand! But no, everyone were walking on their toes and pretending that everything is fine. Meanwhile, Takeo crawled over the walls in his attempts to make Regis convalescence as comfortable as possible, Tao cranked up the wiseass up to impossible levels and Seira… Well, Seira’s cool attitude towards Rael turned outright frosty and that in turn caused the blond to spend his days looking like a kicked dog. Obviously, he didn’t know what to do with the guilt about breaking Regis’ hand… It was probably the first time he’s ever felt anything like it, come to think of it.

Even Frankenstein seemed hurried in a way, his eyes kept flashing with strange light whenever he came into a room and couldn’t locate all of his strays at once. Boss was a possessive man, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he counted all of them on par with the furniture and the school. As His.

And in the centre of it all was the Wolf, running circles in M-21’s head and demanding that he fixes this mess. That he gets the Pack back on its feet, to the way it was before.

And no amount of explaining that there’s no ‘Pack’ and it’s not his duty to take care of the others worked on the beast. It soured M-21’s mood even more, because if there were people in his life to be called his ‘Pack’, well, they have been long time dead. People he actually gave a damn about and couldn’t help in any way. Where was the damn fleabag when they were picked off one by one by the bastards in white? Where was it when M24 sacrificed himself?

Where was it when they were getting their ass handed to them a month ago hard enough for Regis to have to step in and save it?

Yeah, that’s what I thought, M-21 thought when the Wolf whined at him with tail between its legs.

He was not the Pack leader (he would not even attempt to tell Rai what to do), he was not the strongest member of this ragtag group (Seira left pretty much everyone in the dust), not even close to being the most intelligent one (that would be Takeo, when you took into account common fucking sense).

He would defend them to the death, of course he would, that’s what you do for your comrades, right? But that’s where his involvement ended. He could not fix their attitudes, hell, he could barely control his own!

And you’re not helping, beast!

If Regis wanted to pretend that everything is fine, it was his right. If Seira wanted to stick Kertia’s head on a pike, he wouldn’t dream of getting in her way…

Actually, wait. When did Rael start counting as a packmember?  Why would his fate bother them at all?

The Wolf muttered about responsibilities and power balances, and strength in numbers. About ‘we need them all happy and healthy’ and other nonsense.

Nonsense, because M-21 didn’t need anyone.

 

*

 

It was late when he’s finally got back home from his walk.

He refused to call it anything else, even though his feet were insistent on choosing the paths his mind recognised as patrol routes around the school. Well, it wasn’t his fault that the best fast-food stands were located in the area. As good as Seira’s cooking was, he was curious about the whole ‘kimchi’ thing. Turns out, with enough skill, even cabbage could be made tasty.

It was partly guilt and partly defiance that caused him to order a couple more portions to take away. Maybe Takeo would appreciate the strange new dish, being Japanese and all. Tao probably knew about it already. The genius burned through calories at alarming rate and ate like a monster, supposedly to power that overgrown brain of his. Giving him quality food was akin to throwing it outta window.

That’s why he ordered a big, greasy hamburger and a double serving of fries. Just in case the guy was on the prowl for carbs.

And a box of some little fancy rice cookies for Seira. As an apology. Or something. They were good with tea, he has been told.

…so he’s got two more boxes, because scoring points with Rai meant scoring points with the Boss, and he had a feeling he will need as many of them as possible by the month’s end.

The guy from the hotteok stand started calling him ‘son’. M-21 didn’t know how to feel about it.

He whistled softly to himself going up the porch; listening to the hum of the nightlife as he attempted to reach for the keys, because okay, maybe he did get a few boxes too many. After some advanced gymnastics and a failed attempt to locate his slippers with no lights on, M-21 finally entered the kitchen… and almost died of a heart attack then a white shadow moved in his peripheral vision.

_“Holy fucking...!”_

“Don’t shout obscenities, everyone is resting.”

“What are you doing here?!” M-21 hissed to the Noble sitting at the isle.

Regis looked at him with that infuriating calm. With the lights off, he was no more than a shade a bit more pale than the darkness surrounding him. “I wanted a drink.” As if the glass of milk in his hand wasn’t an answer enough. “I assumed that your enhanced senses will detect me, so I didn’t say anything, my apologies for startling you.”

Bags and boxes landed on the counter in a truly impressive heap. “I wasn’t startled,” M-21 grumbled. He should have switched the lights on, see how the kid’s super eyesight handles it.

“Then I revoke my apology.” The brat was smirking too. Ugh, he was surrounded by assholes. “What are these?”

“Foodstuffs.” M-21 answered, rooting through the cupboard in search of plastic containers he knew existed in the house in abundance. “For tomorrow. I walked by the food stands and got something for everyone.”

“There’s a lot of it.”

“There’s a lot of us.”

Hunt successful, he turned and saw the Noble reaching curiously into the pile and poking the packages gently, lifting them to his face and scrunching his nose like a cat considering a dead mouse.

“Oh, Seira will like these,” Regis said, sniffing at the box of cookies.

“How do you know…”

“The rest is all greasy and unappealing, I doubt that you’d offer it to her.”

How could Nobles be so insightful and logical on one hand, and on the other not have a clue about basic norms of human interaction?

“Well,” M-21 shrugged. “If it’s so unappealing, you will not get any.”

A pale hand over the bags wavered, but only for a second. “I would not assume any of it was for me.”

Well, that was smooth and M-21 was too tired to come up with an appropriately snappy comeback. He busied himself with relocating the foods from the original paper wraps and boxes into the sealable containers. It wasn’t the easiest thing to do in nearly complete darkness, but his eyes were enhanced just enough to make it possible.

In the house fully occupied by creatures either enhanced or plainly inhuman, it was paramount that some systems of courtesy were quickly established to avoid stepping on too many toes. Lights on the first and second floors were switched off after 10 pm, no exceptions. Noise was expected to cease completely. No cooking. For the Nobles in the house falling asleep in the center of an area as densely populated was a challenge in on itself, and Takeo needed perfect darkness throughout the night to stay down. And the Wolf reacted to every goddamn smell wafting through the air vents, yapping and urging its host to investigate it. Not to mention every time a car horn sounded closer than a mile away from the school.

M-21 was surprised that his late return hasn’t brought anyone to check on him yet, considering how nervous everyone has been lately. Ah well, small blessings that he only had the brat to deal with.

The brat that was done with his milk, but, strangely, not going away. He just sat there, lost in thoughts, staring absently at a far corner of the kitchen.

“If you think that I’ll be washing this glass, you're mistaken,” M-21 spoke and the Noble’s face turned to him… or not exactly. Huh? “I’m not doing any charity work.”

“It’s rude to assume rudeness in others,” Regis scoffed. “I will take care of it.”

Now that he realised it’s there, M-21 couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was not right with this picture. He could not put his finger on it, but…

“Speaking of which, have you seen Tao’s red mug anywhere?”

“Huh? The one with the insults printed on it?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry, I haven’t seen it. Why do you need it?”

“No reason.”

“Maybe he left it in his room.”

No, he didn’t. M-21 was fairly sure of it, because the mug in question was standing on the dish rack, half a foot from his elbow, in plain view.  

“I’m switching the light on,” he warned with a sinking feeling in his gut.

“But the homeowner said…”

“Yeah, I know, but I can’t find the rest of the boxes.”

A click had them both closing their eyes for a moment; coming from total darkness even a weak light from a tiny emergency nightlight was near blinding. M-21 turned around, opened a cupboard at random and started rooting through it. And who would have thought, there was a virtual paradise of plastic containers in there!

Was he a Wolf, his ears would be standing straight up, listening to the sound of bare feet on the tile, then the tap being turned on, the glass landing on the rack. A short pause. Then the footsteps moving away.

“I am going to bed,” he heard. “Goodnight, M-21.”

The ex-human waited long enough for the Noble to clear the kitchen isle before nonchalantly flipping the lightswitch off.

Regis froze in place.

“You can’t see, can you?” Before the he even opened his mouth to deny, M-21 decided on one more little test: flashing out of view to appear behind him and hiss into his ear, “And don’t lie.”

The full-body flinch and a loud intake of breath were his answer. Regis didn’t see him moving. More, didn’t sense him moving.

“Regis…”

“Everything is fine.” The Noble had the gall to say. “I can function with little difficulty.”

Frankenstein’s words echoed in M-21’s mind, awakening a spike of dread. _On level with humans._

Did it mean that everything about the Noble got downgraded? His senses too? As disturbing as Regis’ physical weakness was, _this_ was something even worse…

“Is it just the eyes?” M-21 asked, concern sneaking into his voice. “Is it because of the dark or...?”

God, when was the last time he couldn’t see in the dark? It was hard to remember. Back in the tanks, when the scientists used to leave the lights off for the night, to give their experiments an artificial day-night cycle before weaning them off of it.

“Does the Boss know?”

“Of course. I am fine,” Regis insisted. If not for the way fingers of his healthy hand tightened into a fist, M-21 would have believed the calm in his voice. “This is a minor inconvenience.”

Minor… So he wanted to play it like that?

“If you say so. I won’t stop you, then, go back to bed.”

“Thank you.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

The Noble didn’t move. The light stayed off.

And M-21 felt like the biggest dick on the planet, but if the runt was adamant about his denial… he had no idea why it annoyed him so much. Usually, he wasn’t the one to try and climb under someone’s shields like that. He’d never felt the need to crush anyone’s defences and have them admit their weaknesses. What good would it do them? This whole mess had to be already traumatising for the Noble, not to mention the rest of their household, so why was he trying to drive the point home like that?

Regis moved. After five minutes of staring into the darkness, he made the first step. Then second. Third.

And then he went down like a log.

Ah yes, the edge of the carpet under the coffee table.

 _Well, serves the asshole right for not asking for help_ , something in M-21 gloated and the Wolf almost jumped to his throat. The beast snarled and scratched at him, and when they’ve heard a whimper and smelled blood, it sent a flash of stabbing pain through his heart.

Blood?

“Hey, Regis?" He kneeled by the Noble. “Hey, are you… damn.”

“The homeowner… will be angry,” Regis mumbled, lips glistening with blood flowing freely from his nose.

Oh, he will be furious. But M-21 had a feeling that the blood on the carpet will be the least of the reasons for it.

 

*

 

“Up and hold it for a moment.” M-21 lifted the Noble’s face with one hand under his chin while he used the other to gently press the towel-wrapped improvised ice-pack to the bleeding nose. They had regular ice-packs somewhere in the labs, but neither of them was willing to step down there at the moment. A bag of ice cubes wrapped in a hand towel had to do. “Is it okay like that? Does it hurt?”

Regis hummed and, after a moment of squeezing his eyes tightly, raised a hand to hold the pack against his face.

M-21 reluctantly allowed him to take over and stepped back to lean against the counter. If before he’d felt like a bastard, now, looking at the hunched form of the usually proud kid, - slumped on the edge of the bathtub, pale with pain, front of his pyjama and throat covered in drying blood - he felt like a monster.  

Guilt was a nasty feeling, he didn’t like it, especially when his fault was real and staring him right in the face.  

“Listen.” M-21 brushed the hair from his face and waited for one crimson eye to open and look at him. “I’m sorry, I acted like an ass.”

“I accept.” Hell, even with half of his face swollen and blood dripping down his throat, Regis somehow still managed to sound clear. “It was mostly my fault. I was too sure of myself.”

Which didn’t do anything to make the ex-human feel less like crap. “Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think your nose is broken.”

“…it bleeds a lot.”  

“Yeah, busted noses are usually messy. Keep the ice to it, swelling should go down soon, but it will be tender for a while.”

He wished there was something more he could do. Whatever Regis said, it was his fault. He was the one that acted out of place, he was downright nasty. There was precious little to be done now, but wait for the bleeding to stop and tuck the runt back into bed. Preferably in a non-bloody shirt.

“I will get you something to wear, wait here.”

He wasn’t about to march upstairs to Regis’ room and risk waking anyone (God forbid Seira) up, much less having to explain why he’s riffling through the kid’s closet. But the laundry room was on the other end of the hall from the bathroom and there was bound to be something clean in the dryer. Luckily, Regis was a shrimp, so everything should fit him.

“This is not my shirt.” M-21 heard when he’s returned with a white t-shirt in his hand.

“No, it’s mine. Don’t worry, it’s clean. Or would you rather stay in this one?”

‘This one’ was slowly starting to stick to the Noble, congealing blood acting the part of a particularly nasty glue.

A minor problem arose when it came to taking it off, however, because the guilt in the form of a furball with teeth still chewed at M-21 without mercy, forcing him to keep his hands to himself and reigning in his pushy inclinations. And Regis was a Noble, so it took him ridiculously long to come to the conclusion that he will need help – and then five more minutes to realise that he has to voice it.

“I think I require help.”

“Ok.” M-21 jumped to the task, willing to do anything just so the bloodstain disappears. Also, the hand towel around the ice pack was going into the trash bin. Outside. Then he will set it aflame. Better a small fire hazard than the risk of Boss finding the thing and asking questions. “Can you lift your hand?” The pyjama thankfully had buttons and short sleeves. It was easy enough to peel it from Regis’ good arm, then just a bit of careful tugging and it went over the cast and the sling, to land in the sink. “Wait, there’s blood…”

“I’ve got it.”

Bleeding has mostly stopped, so Regis pulled the ice from his face, dropped it into the sink, and used the damp towel to rub the blood from his skin as best as he could. A glance at his face made M-21 wince. It didn’t look good.

“How’s your hand? And no bullshit, if the crack shifted it will grow together wrong. Do I have to get the Boss?”

“So crude,” Regis pronounced carefully, looking everywhere, but at him. Then he looked at his cast, as if he could see through it to the bone underneath. Who knows, maybe he could? “It doesn’t seem any different than before. I would appreciate if you didn’t… inform the homeowner about this situation."

That, M-21 could get on board with. "Didn't dream of it."

“Can you assist me with the shirt…?”

“Yeah, sure. The cast goes in first.”

Some more maneuvering later and the ex-human had to keep himself from snickering. The look of dismay on Regis’ face as he stared at the hem that dropped down to his knees was beyond precious.

“You’re such a shrimp.”

“I can hardly do anything about my height.”

Well, yeah, nothing, but time could help him with that. Or not? Considering that the kid was already almost two hundred years old and still below five feet… but then again, Gejutel was a tall bastard, and there was certainly a lot of muscle hidden underneath that robe of his. Maybe Regis will get there too at some point? It was a strange thought to consider, because they were already all used to their Nr 3 being this travel-sized, vicious little thing.

Maybe his mother was short, though? Then the height gene might have skipped the row... Boss would probably know how that works.

“I can’t go back to my room like that. I smell of blood. Seira will be concerned.”

Of course, she will. The two Nobles shared the west wing of the house, their rooms were opposite each other, so there was no way for Regis to sneak past her door unnoticed. He could hardly sneak in his current state, anyway.

It took M-21 all of a minute to come to a decision, and he blamed it on the late hour.

“Come on, then,” he reached out to help Regis walk out of the bathroom. “You can stay with me tonight.”

 

*

And that was how they’ve found themselves in his tiny room, sitting on his bed, surrounded by snacks and watching the TV that was the only substantial purchase M-21 has made with his bank card. There was something appealing about having all the world at the tip of his fingers now, after years spent in close confinement of the labs, not allowed to even know the date. There was something pleasant about the ambient rumble of people speaking in the background as he exercised or napped.

It was a bit awkward, at the beginning, because the bed was a single, and neither of them was comfortable with close proximity to other people: M-21, because of his various mental issues, Regis because he was a Noble and in his head some things simply weren’t done. It took them a while to get used to bumping elbows. In the end, it wasn’t that bad. Especially when, after some initial fumbling with the remote, they’ve found an exceptionally convoluted soap opera that captured their attention sufficiently.

“Is that what happens?” Regis kept asking, eyebrows raised in concern after another plot twist was revealed. He waved a half-eaten hotteok in emphasis. “She was his sister this whole time and no one knew!”

“I have no idea,” M-21 shared said concern. “I have little experience with siblings of any kind.” He was also half-through Tao’s fries.

“From what I understand of humans, the hit of this strength should result in death, not amnesia.”

“Agreed.”

“Another hit is more likely to deepen the issue, not fix it...hmm.”

“Why are you looking at me?”

“You suffer from amnesia, M-21, right? Does getting hit on the head make you remember things?”

“What?”

“Judging by how many times you’ve been hit already… I guess it’s fiction, then.”

“No no, I am curious now, let’s test this theory. On you.”

“...I am already wounded.”

“A _minor inconvenience_ , as you’ve said.”

“The homeowner won’t be happy with you starting a fight at this time of night.”

Heck, if the runt wasn’t right. M-21 was joking, anyway, Regis was already hurt, there was no need to endanger his life further.

But M-21 had a bone to pick with Boss all the same. The kid, for all intents and purposes, was crippled. There had to be something that could be done to help him! He couldn’t even move around the house in his current state. What if he got left behind again after the lights went down? Tragically unused to being left at the mercy of his environment, what would he do? Stay in place until sunrise? That was…

_That was exactly what happened._

M-21 looked at the Noble sitting on his left with wide eyes, too incredulous to speak.

Of course! Goddamn Nobles and their goddamn inability to panic like a normal person; to ask for help and risk inconveniencing others… And to think that if he wasn’t purposefully late, the kid would sit at the table until morning. A _minor inconvenience_ , his flea-bitten ass!

“Can I have one more of these?” Regis cut into his train of thought. He pointed at the greasy bag from the hotteok stand. “They’re surprisingly tasty.”

M-21’s mind switched gears at the last moment, just before he started to scream in frustration and tear his hair out by the handfuls. “It’s fat and sugar, of course it’s good.” Food was safe. It was a safe subject to focus on. “Knock yourself out.”

“…what?”

“That means, go ahead.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“No problem.” The ex-human shrugged and reached for the remote. Halfway through, however, a soft palm landed on his hand, freezing it in place.

“Can we keep watching?” Regis asked, eyes glued to the screen. “Next program will show how crayons are made.”

“ _Crayons_ ,” M-21 repeated, deadpan.

Regis returned his incredulous stare with his own, the blankly uncomprehending one. “Crayons.”

Ah, what the hell. He was actually curious himself.

 

*

 

Morning found him startled and embarrassed – in that order.

“M-21, you scoundrel!”

Only Takeo’s inhuman speed saved Tao’s head from being caved in – the sniper pulling him away from the bed before M-21, shocked awake by the excited whisper, swiped a clawed hand in its direction. It took him a moment too long to come to his senses, and then another second to unglue his eyelids and see for himself why he couldn’t follow up the first strike with another hit.

Oh God.

“This is very cute,” Takeo’s comment was completely unnecessary and entirely unappreciated. “Nice to know you have a soft side.”

M-21 hoped that the icy glare he sent the sniper relayed his opinion sufficiently.

“Soft, like a peach, told you,” Tao snickered.

“Screw you both, and you in particular, Tao.”

“I’ve told you so many times that you’re always welcome in my bed.”

Touché, he did.

Thankfully, they were whispering, so Regis didn’t stir yet. His face, pressed into the ex-human’s shoulder, looked a bit better and a bit worse at the same time – the swelling went down substantially, but the bruise darkened and spread under his eyes. The effect was  quite… horrifying. Thank God that at this angle neither Tao nor Takeo could see it.

“What are you doing here?” He hissed at the two. Hell, he fell asleep in his clothes, and needed a shower. And the TV was still on, some sort of cooking show running on mute. “What time it is?”

“Ten past six,” Takeo informed. “And since you’re ten minutes behind your usual morning routine, we thought to come and see what’s wrong.”

“I didn’t think you had it in you.” Tao made a sad face and kicked one of the discarded boxes on the floor. “To eat all this… and leave nothing for us.”

“You were right.” The bewilderment was clear M-21’s his face as he took in the mess around the bed. Most of the food he’s bought yesterday was simply… gone. He returned his look to the Noble resting by his side. The hell…? “I didn’t.”

“Good one,” Tao snorted. “You won’t convince me that our little boy ate it all.”

“Not all. I had… fries?”

He hoped that the cookies were left untouched. He needed some serious leverage on Frankenstein, and he needed it fast.

But how was he even going to start getting up without waking Regis? They weren’t exactly entangled – they were sleeping side by side, with the kid’s head turned to him, forehead smushed into his shirt. All was decent and casual, no need to freak out. It was just that shred of pity in M-21 that demanded he lets Regis sleep and spare him as much pain as possible. The rest of him was focused on escaping further embarrassment from Tao.

Takeo had to be on the same page, merciful soul that he was, because he pulled the enthusiastic genius back and leaned down to gently shift the Noble, so M-21 could move away.

Saint Takeo the Sniper, M-21 thought without a shred of sarcasm, bless him.

“M-21… wait.”

Or not. Because the other side of that gentle coin was cold as Arctic wind, face frozen in an expression clear as ice, with sharp eyes focused on the bruise marking their Nr 3. “Pray tell,” and this voice. Not since DA-5 had he heard it. “What is this?

The Wolf stilled mid-stretch, wary, ears dropping  back.

“What happened to Regis?” Takeo growled, cradling the sleeping kid protectively. “Explain. _Please_.”

And then the beast did something the ex-human, to his unspoken humiliation, never expected it to do.

It bared its throat and whined.

 

**

 

Takeo was not talking to him. And M-21 didn’t hold it against the Japanese man, not really.

He kinda minded the punch in the face he’d received as soon as the three ex-humans let his room and the sleeping Noble behind, but not really that much. It hurt, sure, he was completely unprepared for it and his block was sloppy, forearm twisting unpleasantly. But it didn’t hurt even half as much as the expression on Takeo’s face afterwards – a shock at his own actions more than any lingering anger. Not as much as the sound Tao has made when that happened, confused and worried, near-inhuman yelp.

He wasn’t angry at the sniper.

Each of them had their own ways of coping with the twisted roads their lives have taken, and M-21 pitied Takeo more than anything. He’s had his caustic sense of humour to lean on and the Wolf to distract and distance him from stressful situations. Tao ran his brain like a computer and could switch modes at a drop of a hat, be shallow enough to remain on top of every situation. The Nobles… hell knew how they coped, but they did. Probably looking at the world via the lenses of elegance and ugliness. Frankenstein was a half-god already, hence above all that.

But Takeo cared.  And when you cared, you could not allow yourself to step back, there was no place to hide from it, you just… kept going. Until you broke.

It was a curse, to be so gentle and kind, and end up in the Union’s labs. What was Aris thinking, allowing Takeo to stay this way? Did the bitch do it on purpose, to watch him struggle and hurt? Why put so much work into creating such a high-class warrior and then leave this one big flaw in the very centre of him?

As much as M-21 hated Crombel and everything he stood for, the man was not intentionally cruel to his experiments. He was heartless and tended to run his creations to the ground with no care in the world, but he’d never stepped down to such base cruelty. M series were wiped blank as soon as possible – clean materials for the man to work with, - and that was probably some sort of mercy, now that M-21 thought about it. There was no one to play mind tricks on them, like the bitch did with Takeo, no one saw a point in that. They were allowed at least this, to rebuild their minds on their own.

It was a little wonder that Takeo was starting to crack. One could not stay nice and kind all the time. M-21 was even glad that it happened now, when they were on top of their game, instead later, in the field or worse - mid-fight.

The school day was stretching unreasonably.

M-21 did his rounds around the complex at a leisure pace, careful to avoid the main gate, where his two companions were stationed today. He wasn’t hiding… per se. They all just needed time to cool down. Tao would take care of Takeo, and by the end of the shift the sniper may be feeling well enough to accept M-21’s apology and issue his own.

And he would have some alone time to wonder at his own behaviour concerning Regis. Why couldn’t he just… let this go? Stop being an ass when the kid needed support and care?

_“Big brother! Hey!”_

...alas, his that was not to be. Who would have thought that loneliness would become such a deficit product in his life?

“Heeeey, big bro! Wait up!”

“I can hear you perfectly well, Han Shinwoo.”

The redhead stopped in front of him at the last second, losing his momentum in an impressively swift sidestep. M-21 wondered not for the first time where it came from – was the skill self-taught or inborn? The kid was resilient as all get out and could deal and take pain remarkably well. And at such a young age, too. How powerful would he become after a few days in the Boss’ clutches?

What was he even thinking?!

“Whoo, ran too fast… wheew…” the boy gulped air for a few moments, bent over his knees, before straightening up. “Ok, I’m fine now. Thanks for waiting.”

His boundless enthusiasm was amusing, to be honest, and M-21 found himself smiling lightly at the child. He liked these brats, unfortunately, too much to  refuse them anything, especially attention. After all, they were the sole reason his life was on the updraft right now.

Probably the one reason he was alive at all.

“Do you need something?” He asked.

“Ah, yeah,” Shinwoo blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just wanted to know… is everything alright? You know, with Regis?”

_No, it’s not, I acted like a complete bastard and almost broke his nose._

Ah shut it, beast!

“Why are you asking?” He said out loud.

“Well, Seira and Rai looked really worried these last few days?” Another blush. Interesting. “And the homeroom teacher said that Regis won’t be back for another couple of weeks. Is he alright?”

He should tell him some calming lie and leave it at that. There was no need to stress the children any more.

“He broke his hand,” he said instead.

“What?! How? When?” The boy all, but grabbed M-21 by the lapels, to shout questions in his face. “Why didn’t Seira tell us…?”

Oh, the Wolf was not happy with being growled at. It rose and bared its teeth at the insolent pup, ready to put him in his place. The strength behind it surprised the ex-human, to be honest, usually the beast was very lenient with the kids… Why growl now?

“Is he feeling okay? Do we have to come in to cheer him up? Come on, big…” It took a hand landing on top of his head for Shinwoo to finally shut up, teeth snapping together audibly.

“You’re too excitable,” M-21 decided to ignore the strangeness and follow his instincts. So far defying the Wolf didn’t serve him well, so this time he was willing to listen. “Seira doesn’t like loud men.” Rael being a prime example.

The blush on Shinwoo’s face was almost on par with his hair. “But I… what…. I don’t…” he spluttered, mortified.

So, the wolf wanted to play a matchmaker now?

So be it. Let’s go all out.

“Neither does Rai.”

Just because it’s funny to see the kid turn pale and mortified. “What does it even… big brother, what…” He had to take his fun where he could.

“And Regis is fine,” M-21 continued smoothly. “He tripped over the crutches and broke his right forearm. Nothing serious, but there’s no point in him coming to school like that, is there? So he stays at home. If you want to come over, ask the principal first, it’s his house after all.”

The red mane under his palm was tangled, but soft, the Wolf noticed. And Shinwoo wasn’t staring him in the face anymore, instead trying to find his eyes somewhere around his collarbones. Good, the Wolf relaxed, the pup knew – instinctively or in some other way - not to aggravate him more.

Why hadn’t he done it sooner?

“Big bro… this is the longest I’ve ever heard you speak.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t assault me like that.”

Momentary awe dwindled under the wave of guilt and embarrassment as the boy lowered his eyes even more and muttered, “Sorry.” Interestingly, all this time he didn’t even try to get out from under the hand on his head.  

The Wolf insisted they pet him and that was where M-21 put his foot down. There will be no petting of human children!

“I am sure that Regis will be happy to see you all,” he said, taking the hand back, ready to finish the conversation. “But you have to slow down, he’s not good with crowds.”

At that Shinwoo snorted inelegantly, all embarrassment forgotten. “None of them is!” He laughed. “They’re all so stoic and serious… and yet…” And yet? Was it just him or did the kid’s eyes lost their focus for a moment? “They’re all cool…and I always know what they mean, even when they don’t speak… which is kinda strange, ey…?”

Oh yeah, they were unfocused. Were human pupils supposed to be this big?

“Shinwoo?” M-21 looked around in alarm, but they were alone on the running track. The recess was over and the rest of the kids already went back inside. “Go back, you will be late for your classes.”

Where was his midget twin when he was needed? And Yuna and Suyi? They usually stuck together.

“Shinwoo, where’s the rest of the kids?”

“Oh?” The boy blinked at him slowly from up close. “I sneaked out…” And swayed. “Ah, heh, I feel funny all of a…”

The Wolf rumbled in distress and M-21 barely had the time to catch the kid, saving him from a facefull of tarmac. “Hey, Shinwoo!”

Hell, why did it always happened to him? As if he didn’t have enough on his plate already!

With a tired sigh, M-21 hefted the teen up and started walking towards the school building. Someone will surely point him in the direction of the nurse's office. Maybe the kid had a heat stroke? Possible, with the way he always dashed from place to place. Or stayed up playing games way too long again?

“Wha…” Shinwoo mumbled in delayed reaction to being picked up. His face scrunched, bleary eyes looking around in confusion. “What… where… M-21?”

M-21 heard his name and froze mid-step.

_Uh-oh._

 

*

 

Frankenstein looked at him over his glasses and folded hands. He did it a lot lately.  
  
“I‘m considering locking you up in the basement for a month or two. Just to see if it’s a random stroke of bad luck or just you.”  
  
M-21 stood in front of his desk, sweating and trying to find something to say that would keep him out of the cage – because everything he knew about this man told him that this wasn’t a joke. Boss was all too capable of following up on all his threats.  
  
Before he found something that wasn’t a pitiful whine, the man raised his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What am I going to do with you, M-21?”  
  
“Boss…”  
  
“Life was so easy before you came along.”  
  
Oh, ouch.  
  
“A scarce few hundred years of peace and then you happened.”  
  
M-21 shifted uneasily. Wow, but his self-respect was taking a beating today. “I’m sorry, Boss.”  
  
“I didn’t say I regret it.” The man smiled. “I think that your presence may be the best thing that happened to us in a sense."

  
The Wolf stretched under this smile like it was sunshine and rumbled gently, like a dog stroked the right way. M-21 could ignore it only because he strongly suspected that Frankenstein had this kind of effect  on everyone and anyone. Not to mention, the praise from his lips was rare.  
  
“Alright, let’s go and see what is it all about,” the blond left the desk and nodded at the ex-human to follow him out of the office. “Han Shinwoo, eh? Another walking disaster. How would you like him for company when I lock you up?”  
  
“I’d rather take my chances with madness, if you don’t mind, boss.”    
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
“Well, this is a disaster.”  
  
The three former experiments gathered in the waiting room of the nurse’s office looked up at that.

Tao and Takeo stood together by the door while M-21 chose to stay on the other side of the small room, unsure if he’s welcome yet between the other two. The Wolf was sulking at the distance from is pack, no matter how many times it’s been told to suck it up and stop being a nuisance. This was how adult humans solved their problems, - by waiting them out. As long as Takeo won’t give him clear permission to close the distance, he was not moving an inch.  
  
Though it was getting hard to stand strong under Tao’s pleading looks.     
  
“You’re being quite dramatic, boss,” the genius chuckled nervously. “It can’t be that bad. The kid’s healthy as a horse, it’s probably just growing pains…”  
  
“And that’s what we’re going to tell anyone who asks.” Frankenstein closed the door to the ward behind him. “Takeo, inform the children about the situation, please, they will surely worry about their friend.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” the sniper bowed, polite to a fault. “Do I allow them to visit?”  
  
“No.” A shadow flashed in the man’s eyes as he considered what plan of action to take. “The boy is sedated for the time being. Tell them he’s sleeping. Tao, please, contact Shinwoo’s mother, assure her that everything is alright and her son is safe. One of you will bring him home as soon as the nurse gives an okay.”  
  
The ‘nurse,’ in this instance, being himself.  
  
“On it, bossman!” Tao saluted and sauntered out of the room after Takeo.  
  
“M-21.”  
  
“Yes, sir?”  
  
“Come with me.”  
  
They went back into the ward, a nice, airy space where the school’s nurse took care of scraped knees and tummy aches. Today the two out of three beds were vacant and the nurse was absent. The third bed was taken by the redhead.  
  
Shinwoo was, indeed, sedated, but not even that was enough to stop him from moving. He tossed his head from side to side, mumbling softly, hands fisted in the sheets.  
  
The Wolf rumbled again.    
  
“What’s wrong with him?” M-21 rumbled along, concerned. “It’s not growing pains, is it? He remembered my name…”  
  
The Boss fixed his glasses. “That’s what we want to figure out. Now, please, pick him up and take him to the lab.”  
  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
This was not happening. He couldn’t… the kid didn’t, _shouldn’t_ be there. The Wolf agreed, if the way its rumbling turned from concerned to vaguely aggressive was anything to go by. No matter how stupid it was to bare teeth at the man who ruled their lives.  
  
Said man turned to him, expectant. “Is there a problem, M-21?”   
  
“No, sir, I just…” M-21 trailed off when a hand landed on his shoulder.  
  
He was always surprised how soft these hands were. Strong enough to hold down each of them, to fight and win with the biggest monsters Union had to offer, with the soul-stealing power of the Dark Spear… and yet they could be so very gentle.  
  
“M-21, don’t worry,” just like his voice. “It’s just for a quick checkup, I promise.”

So could he or couldn’t he read minds?  
  
God, his Wolf was such a bitch, plopping on its back like a pup at the smallest sign of kindness and understanding.  
  
With a sight and a nod M-21 gathered the flailing child into his arms and lifted him up. Thankfully, seemed that being held was enough to calm the boy, because his flailing stopped almost instantly.  
  
“The kid’s too light,” M-21 joked, “for all the power he packs. I wonder if we can get Seira to make him lunches.”  
  
His only answer was a soft hum and a curious look. Neither of which were especially reassuring.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
“M-21, this is not working,” Tao, unusually, was the one to wring his hands this time.  
  
They were both on the laundry duty, surprisingly, because M-21 could swear that on Wednesdays he was supposed to partner with Takeo. He wasn’t complaining, even though he had a feeling that an hour of being stuck in a small closed space together would do them both a world of good.  
  
“Did you swap with Takeo?” He asked.  
  
Tao nodded, unashamed. "Un-huh, swapped him for vacuuming.”  
  
“If you want to talk to me out of earshot, you can just ask.” A grey eyebrow travelled up. “There’s no need for subterfuge.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. But he was scared, so I thought this is better.” A wink. “And I’m not gonna refuse spending time with you in this very small, soundproof room.”  
  
The Wolf, shockingly, put his ears up, _interested_. M-21 almost killed it.  
  
“Oh, you do know how to blush. Peachy!”  
  
“What’s with you and peaches…” he mumbled before going back to the issue at hand. “What is Takeo scared of?”  
  
He had his suspicions, but since none of them were pleasant, it was better not to voice them.  
  
The hacker shrugged, focused on the shirt he was folding. “Himself, mostly.” He whipped it down with a loud crack and attempted to re-fold the sleeves. “Drats, I can’t ever deal with the button-ups… But, well, he is all broken up about the totally un-Japanese way he acted this morning. Sometimes I wonder if they didn’t inject him with Canadian DNA, back in the labs to make some sort of a battle butler or something.”  
  
“It’s okay.” M-21, in a show of inhuman kindness took the stubborn article of clothing from Tao, swapping it for a couple of t-shirts. “I’m not mad. I deserved it. Can I tell him that or do you want to?”  
  
Yes, they were quite a good person altogether, but that caused problems every time one part broke off. Tao was a skilled negotiator, and M-21 relied on his relationship with the sniper to lead him true – there were few things that brought people together as well as being cut up on the same table, after all.

(M-21 was pretty sure that one of his kidneys was still having a time of its life in a fellow experiment from the lab down the hall - as much as mingling between the series was discouraged, SC-32 had been friendly enough after the surgery.)

“I will relay the message,” the genius decided. “But you will have to stop avoiding him soon, or he will start dissociating again. And with Regis… incapacitated, we can’t afford to lose him.”  
  
“I just tried to give him some space.”  
  
“Yeah, I get ya, but you can stop now. Kiss and make out, you two.”  
  
“Make up,” M-21 corrected.  
  
“I know what I said. I want to watch.” Another wink.   
  
What was he even doing in this madhouse, really.  
  
“So, wanna tell me what’s wrong with Shinwoo?” Tao switched gears and turned serious in a blink of an eye.    
  
“No idea.” Another shirt size S? How many of the blasted things Regis owned? or maybe it was Rael’s? Or Seira’s? Nah, hers were wider in the chest... “But he said my name… my real name. There’s only so many times he could’ve heard it and…”  
  
“And none of them pleasant,” Tao finished for him. With a glance from the corner of his eye: “Do you think that he started remembering? Is it even possible? Noble mindbend should stick a bit harder, I thought.”  
  
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s been subjected to it so many times? there has to be a limit to how many times you can mess with someone’s brain.”

Had to. M-21 wouldn’t believe otherwise.  

“But why now?”

“Probably because we didn't have enough problems already.”

“M-21, was that a joke? Oh my, it was! Good work!”

“...pet me one more time and you’ll lose that hand.”

 

*

 

The supper was a quiet affair.

Seira took the cookies from him with a quiet thanks and a blush, so M-21 assumed that she doesn’t know the real cause behind Regis’ mauled face. Regis acted like he always did, even if his food intake seemed to double everytime he as much as looked at a plate. Where did it all go in a body so small?

Raiziel-nim had his own box of cookies - which provided the Pack with the usual spectacle, when he tried them for the first time. The pink ones seemed to be his favourite. Rael (to his shock) got all the blue ones and Takeo was gifted with three yellows. No one was sure if it was a sign of favoritism or just the general strangeness that surrounded the Noblesse on daily basis, so no everyone simply got on with the meal.

Takeo, for his part, seemed to have calmed down since the morning. M-21 was sure that a yellow cookie landing in front of him (the other one going to Tao) was a sign of forgiveness. He tried to ignore the way Rai nodded to himself when that happened, as if the cookie sharing was some sort of a test for his three ex-human pets.

Sometimes he kinda missed the simple days of captivity and inhuman experimentation.

Frankenstein showed up late, hurried and apologetic, and picked at his food in an unusual fashion. Something weighted on his mind, and M-21 had a feeling that he knows what it is. Strangely enough, it was Seira who voiced his suspicion.

“Is Han Shinwoo alright?” She asked calmly. “He looked... unwell when his mother came to take him home.”

“Ah, yes,” Frankenstein wiped his mouth on the napkin and turned to the girl. He seemed grateful that he can stop eating. “The boy is fine. I ran a check up on him and everything looks to be in perfect order. I think it was just a minute lapse caused by the hormonal changes humans go through during puberty.”

“But what about the fact that he remembered M-21’s name?” Tao joined the discussion. “It’s a bit of a coincidence that he would say it out of nowhere.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly understandable,” the man smiled at them all, ”considering that the boy is a part werewolf.”

Well, that was one way to stop people from eating. Even Raizel looked up from his teacup.

“But… but you said, that the tests didn't show anything out of ordinary.” M-21 felt his head spinning.

“Yes, I did. Han Shinwoo is a perfectly normal young man with a mix of lycan blood in his veins.”

“Boss,” trust Tao to be the only one who could smile at a moment like this. “I think your definition of normal needs updating.”

“Not at all. Actually, this development explains a few things I wasn’t sure about before.” Boss shook his head and looked at their other resident werewolf-in training. “M-21, I think your instincts might have knew about it before you were even aware of them yourself. Back when we met you for the first time, in the very beginning.”

“How? I wasn’t… awake back then.” M-21 stumbled over the words. He didn't like to remember that time, to be honest, didn't much like himself from that time either. “What do you mean, the Wolf was aware…”

Boss narrowed his eyes at him, “The Wolf, huh? Interesting.” But it was brief, and then they were back to the issue at hand, as he addressed everyone at the table. “First thing you have to understand, is that lycan blood is not that hard to find in humans. In the last couple hundred years their biggest packs were near decimated by inner conflicts and human intervention. There’s not much space left on this planet where they can hide from unwanted attention, and since their way of life is different from Nobles’… they need more terrain.”

“So, there’s no were-Lukedonia,” Takeo summed up.

“No, there’s not,” Boss nodded. “They need much more space than that. Naturally, this means that at some point some of them had to start mingling with humanity.”

“And that means mongrels,” Rael, surprisingly, didn't sound as disgusted with the notion as they expected him to be. More… fascinated by it. “Another way of losing their pure bloodlines: diluting them in human blood.”  

“Just so.”

“And the kid is a half-breed like that?” Tao.

“Exactly. I would assume it’s from his mother’s side, although she seems to be only the carrier of the gene, since I didn't detect it in her when we met today, now that I know what to look for.” Another of those unsettling smiles. “I did some research, and it turns out that Mrs Han’s ancestors came from Ireland, a region with a documented lycan activity that disappeared from radars around 1920’s. Her husband has no such ties.”

“So it is possible that the kid got not only the haircolor from his Ma,” the genius snapped his fingers in glee. “And that would also explain his freakish resilience!”  

“Very good, Tao, you’re getting better and better.”

“Ay, boss, you’re just saying that!”

“No, no, I am genuinely impressed.”

These two were seriously starting to scare him, and from the way other occupants of the table looked at them, M-21 assumed that he’s not the only one concerned for his safety. He was concerned about some other things, too, but, once more, he wasn’t given the opportunity to speak.

“But does that connect to M-21?” Regis asked, narrowing his eyebrows. God, the bruise on his face was still dark and looked painful, and M-21 had to bite his teeth to stop a whine from escaping him. “What did you mean saying that he might have known about it?”

“I meant just that,” Frankenstein shrugged. “M-21 was in the possession of a werewolf heart for along time, if I’m not mistaken.“ They all politely ignored Rael’s shocked gasp. “Even if the powers it grants him were awakened by Master relatively recently, it had to influence him in some ways before that. My theory is that one of these ways happened without his knowledge, as a recognition of a sort.”

M-21, starting to get sick of being talked about like he wasn’t there, put his fork down and spoke up. “You’re saying that, back then, I didn’t... kill him, because of what, the heart telling me not to?”

Which carried connotations unpleasant enough to kill his appetite on the spot. Maybe he was being oversensitive about it, but the notion that he would have murdered the children in cold blood, that his decision to defend them instead came not from himself, not from M24’s influence, but… but because of the slab of meat in his chest… decided that one of the kids smelled familiar… well, that was..

“M-21…”

He shook Takeo’s hand off before it even reached his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’ve lost my appetite.” He bowed to Seira, who nodded back in understanding, and left the table. “I will be back... later.”

 

*

 

This time the walk took him further away from the school, along the unknown streets. It was surprising how the city changed gears after sunset, changed it’s visage to suit the new crowds and their needs.

Loud music, smell of food, rumble of voices and loud explosions of laughter from karaoke clubs… it felt strange and at the same time pleasant. He wondered if it was familiarity, if there were memories hidden somewhere on the bottom of his brain from the time… before. Before he was wiped clean.

Was he a party animal? Did he like company? Did he have a girlfriend as a human? Or maybe he prefered men? It was pathetic that even something like this, this clean and solid distinction, would be missing from his mind. How could they’ve taken even such basic preferences from him?

He could build himself anew, of course, now that nothing stood in his way, no glass walls and sharp objects to stop him from following his will. But sometimes, in his darker moments, M-21 feared that there’s nothing to build on. That whatever construction he creates, will be brittle and unreliable, because it won’t be the ‘real’ him anymore.

Plagued by these thoughts, he returned home, once more leaden with food.

It was the Wolf, he realised now, making him buy it. _Feed the Pack_ , and other such nonsense kept flashing in his mind and he had no strength to fight it today. Hell, he knew that someone will eat it, at least.

“Did you buy the small pancakes again?”

_“Oh for fuck’s…!”_

The pale shadow sitting by the isle waved at him to tune the swearing down.

“What are you doing here?!” M-21 hissed after swallowing his heart back into the chest, where it should stay for its own good. “How did you even get here with no  light? Don’t tell me you’ve waited this whole time…”

“...I am curious what will happen with the amnesiac evil sister.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“And I’d like to see how things are made again.”

This was ridiculous. It’s not like he bought a dozen of hotteok just to feed this little monster!

 _Except_ , the Wolf forced him to admit, _that yes, he did._

And it’s not like he intended to sleep tonight, anyway, so might as well see what became of the amnesiac evil sister.

 

  
  


 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

They fell asleep again!

Well, no wonder, after eating so much junk food, but still, at least this time M-21 has changed into his sleeping attire before settling down to watch trashy soaps.

And at least this time Tao and Takeo weren't there to mock him. No, instead he woke up to thin, gasping sounds and the bedsheets shifting next to him. The Wolf nudged him awake surprisingly gently, for all the urgency it sent his way. There were no claws on his hands as he came to, no feeling of danger to push him out of bed.

Just Regis whining softly into his shoulder, teeth clenched tight and eyes screwed shut.

“Regis...?” M-21 mumbled, brain slowly getting into gear. “What…?”

“...hurts…” The Noble pulled the cast tightly to his chest and clawed at it with trembling fingers. “. _..huh-iiii…_ ”

That sound alone was enough to fire up the cylinders, the ex-human going from horizontal to vertical in a blink of an eye, suddenly clear-headed and ready for action. Just what action to take?!

“What’s wrong? What hurts?” Leaning over the prone Noble, he didn't know what to do with his hands. Where to touch, what to do?! “ _Regis_ …” He didn't even look conscious, curled up like a wounded animal, thin limbs shivering, slivers of red that flashed between white eyelashes were wet and unfocused. “What’s happening?!”

 _Boss_.

Frankenstein would know.

“Hold on, shrimp!”

Regis was all limbs and air as M-21 gathered him into his arms, wincing when every move seemed to stab even more pain into the kid, resulting in more pathetic mewls.

What the hell, what the hell, what the hell...

_Shut up, beast! Just shut up!_

__

*

“Growing pains.”

“You’re joking...”

“I assure you, M-21, if I was joking, you would be laughing.”

He doubted it, because his sense of humour, stunted as it was, wasn’t even remotely compatible with the mad scientist’s morbid jokes. Also, there was nothing to laugh at.

“But he’s almost two hundred!” He argued.

“Yes,” Frankenstein nodded over his data pad. “Exactly.”

OK, so that made even less sense. “Boss…”

“M-21, please, calm down. The situation is under control.”

“He’s in pain! He was...” Crying.

M-21 didn't even think that Nobles _could_ cry. And that’s because he’s never seen one do it! He almost dropped the kid in the elevator when the tears started to roll down his face and the body in his arms started to seize, and the noises just... stopped.

Even the boss panicked at the sight, he was sure of it, when he stumbled into the labs, yelling for help. The blond man moved faster than ever, as he took Regis from M-21’s arms and went around strapping him to the gourney, sticking needles and attaching sensors to his flailing limbs. At least whatever was in the IVs worked their magic, because it made the spasms stop.

“M-21, I do not appreciate being doubted.”

“I’m not…!”

“ _You_ need to calm down. Either that or I’ll ask you to leave the laboratory and go back upstairs.” A beat and a look at the clock. “I may do it anyway, it’s two in the morning, you need your sleep if you’re to be of any use at the school today.”

“I’m not going.” And then the Wolf growled at him, so he lowered his eyes and allowed the beast to lead him. It seemed to know better how to deal with stress and sucking up to their handler. “I’ll be quiet and stay out of your way, sir. I just want to know what's wrong with the kid.”

The pause after his words was lengthy and heavy. He could feel the man staring at him, his look considering and almost tangible, and he didn’t twitch under it.

“He may not be a ‘kid’ for very long,” Frankenstein finally said. “Not if his body doesn't find a way to fight the toxin off.”

And he said is so calmly and matter of fact that for the first minute M-21 didn't find anything wrong with his words. Until he did.

“Wait. What?”

*

Apparently it was possible to grow an inch in between five episodes of a late-night soap, because why the hell not? Nobles were so strange already that sharing characteristics of with potted plants didn’t seem too out of order for them.

“So, you’re saying that our little boy is undergoing puberty on fast-forward?” Tao, as usually, was the one to summarise the explanation into an easily digestible form. “Seriously?”

“Why is this happening at all?” Rael, on the contrary and to everyone’s surprise, seemed at least appropriately horrified. “What’s going to happen to Regis?”

That reaction earned him a kinder look from Takeo, who stood by the sink and pretended to wash the dishes. His hands were slow, thought, and the usual aura of Zen was absent from around him. Every minute or so his eyes stranded in the direction of the living room and the couch where their Nr 3 was curled into a ball of pure misery. Seira covered him with a blanket and sat down on the chair a bit to the left, not close enough to touch without intent, of course, but visibly concerned. M-21 felt a spark of warmth somewhere in his chest when he saw her laying a hand on the kid’s forehead, expression focused and very sisterly - whatever that meant in his cracked mind. Regis took the touch patiently, calmly awaiting Seira’s verdict concerning his temperature. Good, at least they’ve learned something.  

M-21 hoped that the box of cookies he’s left in Takeo’s jacket was enough to buy him forgiveness. He felt for the sniper, really did, M-21 was already being pulled whichever way by his stupid instincts, the slow reanimation of his basic emotions and the even more slow going burial of the old fears. Imagine he was a good person on top of that. Takeo wanted to roll everyone in cotton wool at the best of times, how crushing it had to be when there was no wound to put a plaster on and no fever to chase down. Just a sick body he could do absolutely nothing for.

“It’s partly the toxin’s fault,” Frankenstein answered, clearly not happy that he has to repeat himself _again_. “The other part is something in Noble’s physiology I, frankly, don’t understand, never having an opportunity to research it.” Here everyone’s glances moved unanimously in the direction of the Noblesse who looked at them blankly over the rim of his teacup, and it took a polite cough from the boss to get them back on track. “It all comes down to the toxin’s primary function that, as far as I’m reading into it, was to disable Noble’s inherent powers, rendering him or her virtually defenceless. Now, whoever made this concoction,” the disdain for said individual was loud and clear in the blond’s voice, “apparently has either worked under assumption that the Nobles and modified humans share characteristics or didn’t have an access to a pureblooded Noble to test their theories on. Which doesn't surprise me in the slightest.”

“Nobles are in no way similar to modified humans!” Rael looked as if the sheer insinuation made him sick to the stomach.

M-21 had half of a mind to growl something insulting at the asshole, because, okay, they’ve never been friends and Kertia’s assimilation into the pack was slow and full of pit-stops… but this level of disdain was like a kick in the teeth. He thought they’ve went past that at least already! A fleeting look from Tao and a glance-and-you-miss-it stiffening of Takeo’s spine told him that the others thought the same.

And then...

“How pedestrian, to assume that everyone with powers are the same! Our physiology is completely different from humans, starting at the cellular structure... Noble powers are not some cheap add-ons to the basic human model, they define us from the moment we’re born!”

Well.

If there was ever a moment M-21 wanted to take his phone out and snap a photo it had to be this one - he had a feeling that he’ll never have a chance again to see such perfect expression of surprise on Boss’ face. The only reason he didn’t do it was that the same surprise rendered him pretty much immobile, at most able to stand and stare at Kertia like a calf. And not only him, it would seem, judging by the same stares reflected universally around the room. Takeo even turned from the sink, water running uselessly over his empty hands.

“What?” The blond snapped, back from the heights of evolutionary outrage he climbed on a moment ago. Was it embarrassment or anger painting his cheeks pink? “Why are you staring like simpletons?”

Okay, that was the Rael they all knew and, well, _tolerated_.

“Ah, yes, simply put, Rael is right,” Frankenstein shook off the shock and returned to the matter at hand with a pleased curl to his lips. “Nobles are not humans, regardless of the aesthetic similarities. I imagine that if one of you three,“ he looked at the ex-humans present, “was hit with a big enough dose of the toxin, you would be permanently incapacitated. Your cells were modified and mutated through experiments to the point in which reversing the process would essentially destroy them at best...”

“And at worst?” Tao piped up.

“It would mutate them further.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Randomly.”

“Okay, that’s bad.”

“Can I?”

“Of course, Boss, carry on.”

“As I was saying,” _before being rudely interrupted_ , was stated with a look alone. “Nobles are built from the ground up with their powers included. Their bodies will fight any attempt to hijack them.”

“But Regis lost all his…” M-21 pointed out.

And he got a smile in return.

“No, he didn't.” Frankenstein lifted one finger like a teacher speaking to a likeable, but a bit dim student. “They can’t be removed, only stunted. And only for a time, as it turns out, and under very specific circumstances.”

“Which are?”

God, he did feel like a dim child.

“Primarily, age. That seems one of the reasons the venom worked at all in the first place. Regis is not yet an adult, so his cellular structure is, hm, more susceptible to tampering.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Tao nodded. “That would mean the toxin will stop working when our boy goes through that coming of age thing that’s been mentioned around the house… Ooooh!”

Oh, indeed.

“Tao, share.” M-21 had so little patience left it was a miracle he wasn’t crawling walls. “Some of us have IQs below one hundred.”

“Don’t feel bad, M-21, you have many other attractive traits,” the genius teased.

**_“Tao!”_ **

...

Oh for the fuck’s sake... He growled. He really growled. Loud enough for everyone to hear. Loud enough for this throat to tingle.

That’s it. This was the worst day ever. It started in a shitty way and it continued thusly without a hitch, to culminate in the stares he was receiving now.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shame choking him up. “I will go and cool down… sorry…”

_“Sit down.”_

His knees softened without his order and he all but slammed down on the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. He will have bruises on his ass, that’s for sure.

Lost for words, M-21 lifted his head and met blood red eyes that looked at him with an expression of _calm_ so all-encompassing, that he felt his skin going numb from it, tongue turning leaden and fingers stiff.

 _“No growling,”_ Noblesse said. _“Not at home.”_

The Wolf whined in the back of his head, confused, its wounded pride colouring M-21’s cheeks red under the paleness of his own mortification. It was… so easy. Just a word and a look, and he was down on the floor, scolded like a disobedient dog.

The time has stopped in the room, previously animated people frozen in their places, barely breathing. Even the soft _chink!_ of the teacup on the coaster sounded displeased enough to make him wince. Uh-oh, he’s done it now.

 _“Now, quiet,”_ Raizel spoke only to him, as if there was no one else present. _“You can run later.”_

Run? What… why run? Why was he saying that…

It took the ex-human decidedly too much time to understand that the Noblesse wasn’t speaking to him, specifically. It took the Wolf agreeing with a wag of it’s tail and a thin whine for him to realise that the conversation that just took place actually excluded him. Raizel-nim was speaking directly to the Wolf, and the Wolf answered.

He was going crazy. Him and everyone around.

Frankenstein cleared his throat especially loudly to break the tension clogging the air. No one looked at M-21 and he didn’t look at anyone, his thoughts tangled too much to attempt to pretend that he’s alright. He only pulled his legs in and leaned on the side of the couch, and allowed the other’s words to wash over him.

Maybe it wasn’t Takeo who needed pity, in the end.  

*

He went running.

When the conference ended, he locked himself in the gym, stepped on the treadmill and didn't get off it for the next two hours. Not until his breath started to rattle in his chest and the beast in his head settled the fuck down.

He tried not to think about what happened back in the living room.

 _This was it, beast!_ He snarled at the Wolf. _This was it, the one and only time. No more!_

He wasn’t going through it again. The humiliation of behaving like an animal and being scolded like one was too reminiscent of the labs for him to not make him sick to the stomach, too alike the times when he had no will of his own to follow. Was that bit of extra strength worth turning into a mindless monster on the battlefield? He didn't even remember the times his werewolf instincts have taken over him, wouldn't even know it happened if the others didn't tell him afterwards.

He was changing, that was obvious from the moment his claws formed for the first time, but what the hell was the endgame here? From what he saw so far born werewolves weren’t losing their minds when transformed. What about his enhancements? Hell, half of them he probably wasn’t even aware of! How much of a human was really left in him and how much will be left after this goddamn heart finishes terraforming his body?   

The Wolf scratched and growled at him, enraged when mental bars started to slam into shape, caging it into a small corner of their shared mindscape. M-21 wondered if it’s possible to drown an imaginary ‘friend’ in an imaginary pond.

_“M-21.”_

M-21 stopped the treadmill and leaned over his knees, breathing hard. God, he didn't want to see anyone right now, but especially not Him.

“Yes, Raizel-nim.” Ingrained habit made him answer.

For the longest time he’s managed not to fear this being, learned to trust it even.

Managed to forget that he’s alive only because this thing continues to _let him._

He didn’t expect to hear footsteps, because for some reason the Noblesse didn’t make a sound when he walked, as if the air around him conspired to make him impossible to track. He always just was there, noiseless like a shadow. M-21 straightened up and these red eyes were in front of him, their owner less than an arm’s reach away.

He froze under the close scrutiny, like a rodent staring in the face of a cat, even if the cat was almost a head shorter than him and built like a high-schooler. But that didn’t matter, one Kneel was probably enough to snap his spine in three places if he decided to be suicidal and take a swipe at Him. His body probably wouldn’t hit the ground properly before Frankenstein dissected it from top to bottom.

Hell, look what one Sit did to him already.

“Sir…” He fell back into an old habit when the silence started to stretch too long for comfort, everything to speed up the thought process behind this black fringe. He was sweaty and his knees were killing him. Maybe running fifty eight miles without stopping wasn’t the smartest idea he’s had today. “I’m sorry… I was…”

“It’s alright.”

The move was telegraphed seemingly ages before it happened, a slow lift of an arm, gentle fingers that rested on the top of the ex-human’s head. So soft M-21 barely felt them there, just barely treading through his hair. At once it paralysed him and turned his bones to gel.

“It’s been hard on you too,” the Noblesse murmured at a frequency M-21 was sure only animals could hear. It went up his spine like a caress. “Wasn’t it?”

And the ex-human realised that, yes, that’s what has been happening all along. The confusion and worry, and anger, and hopelessness were slowly frying his brain.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I don’t… understand it…”

“He just wants to protect his pack. Let him.”

“But I’m not an animal…”

 _“Let him.”_ The underlying command silenced him as effectively as the brush of soft fingers over his left ear. _Was He petting him?!_ “He will help you protect everyone, if you only let him.”

“...I don’t know how.”

Admitting it was harder than he thought possible. He was too broken up inside to relinquish control over his life like that, too used to not having it. Even if the Wolf existed inside of his own body and mind, it wasn’t his. It wasn’t him. He didn’t chose it.

“I can’t… let go like that. I need to know what I’m doing.”

The petting motions were strangely soothing. Thoughtlessly, M-21 leaned into it and realised it only after His fingers curled around the back of his head. The Wolf was suspiciously quiet, thought he could feel it in the corner of his mind, watching.

“You will still be you, M-21.”

“Heh, I don’t even know who that is…”

A look of confusion stole over the Nobless’ face. “I don’t understand that.”

“No, I don’t think you can.”

 _And thank God for that_ , M-21 thought. Of all the things he would like to spare the people important to him, that particular brand of doubt made the top of the list.

Feeling daring, he touched the hand on his head and gently brought it down between them. So small, compared to his hands, thin-boned and pale, fragile like porcelain. And yet strong enough to crush people into pieces.

“But is the you that’s here now bad?”

He was left with this question, the Noblesse disappearing as quietly as he appeared.

_Shut up, beast. Just... don’t._

*

“Done hiding?”

“Done being a lazy bum? Guess not.”

Regis scoffed at him like an insulted cat and turned his head towards the TV. The living room was empty, everyone probably went to school. M-21 felt bad about skipping work for about two minutes, before the Noble spoke:

“Homeowner said to tell you that you’re staying home today.”

“Hm? To babysit you?”

“Close. You’re to be my servant for the day.”

Oh, that was precious.

“In your dreams, half-pint.”

“I assure you, M-21, my dreams are much too elegant for you to feature in them.”

Okay, the kid was back on his feet, in a manner of speaking. That was good. The Wolf was pleased. Still looked a bit peaky and didn’t yet drop the blanket, but at least stopped with the teary eyes.

“Scoot over, your highness,” M-21 ordered, dropping on the couch beside the blanket-swathed Noble. “What are you watching?”

“How many ways people can find to murder one another.”

“Crime drama?”

As it turned out ten minutes later, no, it wasn’t. It was some American soap about married women living in the suburbs. Americans were strange people.

“Why are they being like that?” Regis asked at some point, staring at the happenings on the screen in mesmerised terror. “Why be with someone you can’t stand to the point of killing them? People in these shows seem incapable of making logical choices.”

M-21 shrugged. “Beats me, I’ve never been in a relationship, healthy or otherwise.”

“Hm, maybe I should ask Takeo.”

“Yeah, good idea. He gets both ends of the stick in one ridiculous package, probably can tell you all about wanting to kill a spouse.”

The intricacies of the relationship between his fellow modified humans sometimes went so high over his head he didn’t even attempt to catch them. Only thing he decided to believe in was that the sniper had to be some sort of a Saint of Patience to deal so calmly with his mile-a-minute partner. Or maybe he was just as brain damaged as the rest of them?

On that note, maybe he should start Regis on something easier, some basic teary romance for example. If he asked Yuna to explain the whole thing, she’d probably agree... But that would be too weird, wouldn’t it?

“You hungry?” He asked, trying to end the subject. “There should be still some pasta left from yesterday…”

“There isn’t.”

“How… a whole pot of sauce too?” Was it a trick of light or was Regs blushing? It was hard to see when he tilted his head like that and his for once not styled hair fell over his cheeks. “You’re a monster.”

“And you’re being a boor, as always.”

Yeah, well, okay maybe it was not nice to make fun of this. The Noble was growing at the speed of light, making his sudden need for nutrients logical.

“I will see what’s left.”

He was not the best at cooking, sure, but he suspected that there’s enough ramen in the kitchen to feed an army, he just had to find the right cupboard.

And there was one, on the third try, packed top to bottom with dry noodles in cheerful plastic wraps. Picking up three packets at random, M-21 set about boiling water and watched from the corner of his eye as Regis struggled to cross the distance between the couch and the kitchen isle.

“You could stay there, you know?” He said, offhand.

Especially when even that short treck made the kid look like he just climbed a mountain. And the way his loose hair kept falling across his face didn’t help matters. Wait… was it longer today? And the kid’s face seemed… different too. Slightly narrower... or were his eyes deceiving him?

“I will not eat on the couch,” Regis sniffed. “It’s against the rules.”

“No one’s home and I won’t tattle.”

“That there’s no one to see you break a rule doesn’t mean it’s not broken.”

“You’re such a stick in the mud.”

A slow blink. “That idiom makes absolutely no sense. It’s ridiculous.”

“Like your hair.”

What made him say that, he didn’t know, but after the words left his mouth M-21 had a rare chance to see a shred of self-consciousness enter Regis’ usually impassive expression. A hand wet up to brush the long fringe away, but it fell right back and the Noble sighed, exasperated.

“It’s too long to smooth back,” he admitted. “It will look bad if I try.”

“Why not cut it?”

“Why waste time when it will grow back by tomorrow?”

“You can ask Tao to borrow you one of his headbands.”

“They’re all… colourful.” If disgust had a name, Regis was usurping it. Another sigh. “I can tie it when it’s long enough.”

Tie it? So he was assuming that the hair will grow that long?

“You think it will…?”

A shrug. “No reason to assume otherwise. The homeowner calculated that I may be quite… older looking, by the time my coming of age arrives.”

M-21 leaned on the counter, eyes sharp. There was unease boiling in the back of his head, born from the situation, yes, but also from the complete calm with which Regis seemed to take this whole thing. He talked about his body going haywire so matter of factly it was a bit scary. As if it wasn’t happening to him… or wasn’t important enough to even raise his blood pressure.

*

“So, basically, Regis’ body is fighting with the venom by speeding the whole coming of age thing? But how does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t. But panic rarely ever does. The date will come up soon enough and hopefully it will be enough, but until this time the cells will try to stabilize themselves in the only way they know how.”

“And we’re sure that it will all end when Regis grows up for good?”

“I believe it will, Takeo. All the evidence points towards it.”

“...evidence?”

“The samples I’ve managed to procure didn’t have effect on Miss Seira and Rael.”

“What?!”

*

“When is your coming of age thing, anyway?”

Half an hour past two bowls of instant noodles (the kid ate lightning fast even with his hand in a cast), Regis turned from the TV and answered:

“In a month and a half.”

In a month. They were going through one more month and a half of this thing. Great. Just… splendid.

M-21, apparently a rebel at heart(hah!),  licked his spoon clean and put the empty bowl on the coffee table. The show was getting good, bodies were starting to pile up. “It will go back to normal afterwards, yes? I mean, you… will get your powers back and go back to being…”

His fumbling for words was interrupted by a tiny smile. “Short?” Regis summed up for him. “My powers will most likely awake again. As for the rest…” The look he pointed at his healing hand was quick, the shrug that followed impassive. “I don’t know.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

The Wolf raised its ears, letting him know that he’s stepping on the shaky ground again. The last time it happened they’ve ended up damaging the Noble. A warning growl was clear and concise. M-21 rolled his eyes mentally, but didn’t dismiss it right away.

He decided to give a benefit of doubt to Raizel-nim’s advice. Once. Just to see what happens and feel properly vindicated when everything goes to Hell.

“I see no way in which getting angry will benefit anyone,” Regis admitted. His eyes stayed firmly on the television, thought. “The homeowner does whatever he can to make my situation more comfortable, and everyone is already worried enough… the least I can do is to act gracefully until the situation resolves itself.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Pale fingers tightened into a fist and M-21 pretended not to see it. He was pushing buttons again, he should stop.

“If it doesn’t… then panic won’t help me anyway, will it?”

On the screen someone just got stabbed with a pair of knitting needles.

Humans were so inefficient at killing, it seemed. Messy too, and they panicked so easily.

“You still hungry? I can make us some popcorn.”

“...pop...corn?”

“Okay, we’re having popcorn.” M-21 stood from the couch. “Stay here,” he threw over the shoulder.

How could they not even have popcorn in Lukedonia? What did the Nobles eat in there, venison and caviar? Were they eating at all out there? They didn't have to eat, but surely there was at least some pleasure to be derived from it for them?

Popcorn wasn’t fancy, sure, but it was… popcorn.

Thankfully, Tao was a big fan of the stuff and always kept a packet or two close to the microwave. For M-21 it was an acquired taste, and quite recent one, but he appreciated the unobtrusiveness of the flavour when all other snacks he’s encountered so far have been spiced within an inch of their lives. Pizza-flavoured chips, cookies so full of sugar his teeth were getting goosebumps, peanuts drenched in salt… everything was too much.

The microwave pinged and he removed the warm bag from it, a bowl already prepared on the side. Back on the couch Regis was looking at him dubiously, apparently still hung up on the whole ‘eating at the table only’ thing he suffered from.

M-21 rolled his eyes. “Eat,” he pushed the bowl at the Noble. “People eat popcorn when they watch movies, so the rules don't apply.”

One more suspicious glance and the bowl was appropriated from his hands.

“Thank you,” the kid muttered, already stuffing his face.

The ex-human stole a few kernels and nodded back.

The murderous knitter was already halfway through disposing of the body, appallingly inept at it, too. Just burying it in the backyard won’t do anything if she doesn’t wrap it in some plastic foil first. Hell, two trash bags would do the job sufficiently.

“Why murder someone if you can’t even clean it up?” M-21 muttered finally, his appetite shot completely by the level of ineptitude he was witnessing. His handlers would turn him into dog food if he’d ever...

“Why kill him at all?” Regis countered. He looked like he was at the same time fascinated and appalled by what he’s witnessing. “She could’ve told the truth and he would go away.”

“Wasn’t the whole point for the truth to not get out?”

“Why would he tell anyone?”

“Why wouldn't he? Secrets carry power, it’s easy to control people if you only know enough about them. He would blackmail her to get back at his wife.”

Wide scarlet eyes turned on him. “...are humans really like that? They would go that far to control others?”

”That’s... a bit more complicated.” M-21 tried not to squirm, realising that so far the Nobles only ever met humans at school, in a friendly supportive environment free from all the bullshit that humanity was full of. And that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to break it out to them yet. Innocence was a rare thing, after all. Believing that the humans are worth protecting was strongly rooted in the Nobles’ minds and it was probably the only reason humanity still existed. “And it’s entertainment, you know?” The lie was easier. “Everything is exaggerated for the drama.”

“Oh, that’s... comforting.”

The red stare went back to the screen and M-21 released a breath he’s been holding. Humanity was a complicated subject he didn’t feel he could even attempt to tackle. Not yet, not with an animal shuffling between his thoughts. Maybe one day, when he understands it himself.

The show ended and a next came up. Something about gardening. M-21 picked the remote and started clicking through the channels in search of something more interesting. He knew the evening line up, but this was a middle of the day and everything seemed to be targeted either at old ladies or logophiles.

Okay, it would seem that they had to step into the strange and unusual world of the cable TV and it’s three thousands of channels. M-21 kept pushing the button on the remote, every time casting a quick glance at the Noble to make sure that none of the programmes caught his interest, because experience taught him already that excessive politeness was the worst quality anyone could have.

But Regis didn’t seem to be interested in the television anymore. He leaned into the corner of the couch, limbs curled under the blanket, popcorn forgotten in the crook of his arm. He looked at the floor and breathed slowly - too slowly for someone who didn't do it on purpose.

The Wolf stirred, nosing its way to the forefront of the ex-human’s mind, making concerned noises.

Oh no, not when Boss was at the school!

“You alright?” M-21 asked carefully and relocated the bowl on the coffee table, safely out of reach.

“Yes,” Regis nodded, but it was a shaky move. “I’m…”

“Will you stop lying to me?”

Silence. From what M-21 knew about the Nobles, this one was not far from taking his question seriously and considering what answer he can give.

“Regis, come on,” he insisted, moving closer to the kid, trying to ascertain what went wrong in the last ten minutes. “Are you in pain again? Do I have to call Boss to come back home? Did he leave you any medicine or anything?”

A sigh. Long and pained. “It’s just… the bones are growing along with everything else and it’s...” a moment of thought, a grimace, ”...unpleasant.”

M-21 translated. “So it hurts.”

There was no way to argue with that conclusion. “...yes.”

He could work with that - now, that he knew what’s happening. There were things that could be done for the pain.

“Do you want me to get you back to bed?” He asked. “Or down to the labs? Do you take any painkillers?”

“Can’t… already took enough…” A pause. “I will stay… this,” shaky hand pointed at the TV, “... is a good distraction. Don’t worry…” An attempt at a smile. “It’ll pass.”

And once more he could do nothing to help. Wait and watch, it would seem, was the goddamn motto of this whole mess. M-21 was getting sick of it, to be honest, of watching his friends suffer like that.

 _So, what now, beast?_ He thought at the Wolf. _Any ideas?_

As it turned out, the Wolf had at least a few.

You’re joking!

The first  three were discarded without a second thought. The fourth one was shortly considered, before it also shared the same fate.

The beast growled in displeasure, reminding him that he was supposed to cooperate.

He will help you if you let him - Raizel-nim had said.

M-21 hoped that he’s not making a huge mistake when he decided to do it. He sighed deeply and… let him. Lifted the bars, slipped the control a little bit, but still more than he has ever consciously allowed himself to do. Almost immediately his body moved without his orders - left hand lifted and dropped gently on the back of the Noble’s neck.

Regis froze. M-21 wanted to join him.

His hand moved down - a long, firm stroke alongside the curved spine. Then another one. And another. Slow and and careful, pressing just enough to feel the vertebrae through the blanket, shifting by millimetres underneath his fingertips.

A red eye turned his way, wide and confused. “M-21?” Regis muttered between the strokes. “What are you…?”     

“Does it feel better?” The ex-human muttered back.

It took another few minutes for the Noble to reach the conclusion and answer the question with a quite unexpected: “Yes.”

Huh, who would've thought?

“It hurts… less. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

So okay, maybe the monster in his head had some good ideas from time to time. As long as no one knows about it…

“Is this… like that temperature thing?”

“Hm?”

“The touch thing humans do?”

“...yeah.”

As long as no one knows he can let his hand do the petting. Why not? It was something to do.

*

“Holiday?” M-21 repeated the word like a curse, rolling it around his tongue and finding the taste unpleasant.

“Yes, Holiday,” Frankenstein echoed back at him. He looked pleased with himself.

“But why?” The ex-human was baffled. Holiday was a strange concept to him, he’s never done it before… “The others are still working.”

“Tao and Takeo don’t have two months of Holiday pay backed up on their accounts. And as long as I can keep Tao out of the house, they won’t have it.” The blond spread his hands on top of the desk. “It’s high time you’ve had some down time, anyway, you make the rest of my employees look bad.”

How was he making them… the school staff? How…

“And the non-official reason, sir?” He dared to ask.

The answer was quick and merciless. “I don’t want you at the school right now.”

Wasn’t the first and probably not the last time his curiosity got him punched in the stomach.

“Not for the reasons you think,” Frankenstein hurried to clarify. He fixed his glasses and cleared his throat. “The matter of Han Shinwoo still stands, unfortunately. His werewolf blood seems to react in some way to yours, as you could’ve noticed when I had you carry him. He calmed down whenever you were close, even unconscious. That’s… telling. I need the two of you way from each other right now. And... “

“And you need someone to keep an eye on Regis.”

“Yes. That too.”

“I may not be the best person for the task.”

“On the contrary, so far you’ve been doing splendidly.”

I almost broke his nose, he almost said. Can’t stand seeing him so weak. Can’t trust myself around someone non-enhanced. Can’t stop feeling guilty about the whole thing. Can’t keep watching him being so calm and accepting of something that would terrify anyone else. Can’t. Can’t. Can’t…

“M-21, I will admit, I am doing this also on the account of your special… situation.”

Perfect. Why were everyone suddenly so very concerned with the damn Wolf? He was fine, he was dealing with the changes. He was going to accept the stupid beast, what else did they want from him?

Apparently, they wanted him to feel even more uncomfortable than he already was.

“Werewolves are social beings, no different from common wolves. They thrive in well managed social structures based on familial units,” Frankenstein explained, easily staring down any argument M-21 wanted to raise. He intended to finish his lesson. “Unlike Nobles, they’re open to physical, eh, interactions. Something I suspect you haven’t had much experience with due to being a test subject, am I right?”  

Was he required to answer this? It was pretty obvious…He nodded anyway, just to feel that he brings some sort of contribution to this dialogue. The ‘physical interactions’ he’d experienced in the labs weren't even on the margin side of ‘healthy’.

“Yes. And I imagine the environment you’re in now doesn’t create many opportunities for fixing that issue.”

House full of Nobles, each with a personal bubble five feet wide… no, there were no chances for physical interactions outside of training. It just didn’t happen in this house.

Well, until yesterday, at least, when he’s spent an hour on the couch, all but petting their youngest Noble’s back until the runt dozed off.

“I don’t have an issue with it,” M-21 assured. “It’s fine like that.”

“For you, maybe, but not for the Wolf.”

Ah, of course, the Wolf. Everything to make the beast more comfortable these days, wasn’t it?  

“Sir, I really don’t…”

“Please, listen to me before acting like an idiot, all right?”

The look M-21 got along with it was serious and signalled that the conversation was just moved from an even ground between them to a place where he was supposed to shut up and pay attention. Frankenstein didn’t do it often, usually preferring to leave his three projects to sort themselves out on their own, but every once in a while the silk gloves were discarded and the iron showed.

“Sit.” The scientist waited until his order was carried out, knowing full well that M-21 preferred to stand during briefings. Sitting made them too… cordial, in his mind, less impersonal. It would seem that everyone were set on pushing at his comfort zones lately. “Now, first things first. I need to apologise.”

Wait, what?

“Boss…?”

“Quiet.” The man cleared his throat, but otherwise there were no signs of discomfort in his posture or expression. “At first, when you started to live with us, I was quite fascinated with the process you were undergoing, to tell you the truth. You’re something of a scientific wonder. But lately I've started to see how much stress this is putting you under and how I might have… prepared for it better while there was still time, if I'd only paid more attention. I’m sorry about that.” A small nod followed, as if that part of the conversation was done and finished. “If I could extract the parts that trouble you, I would do it, believe me, but at this point it may not be in your best interest. At the moment it’s best we focus on supporting the changes as they happen, and Regis’ situation is almost tailor-made for that.”

M-21, still struck stupid by the apology, managed to come up with one word. “How?”

Frankenstein smiled at him, in that creepily pleasant way of his. “He’s vulnerable, more than any of us at the moment, and your Wolf obviously responds to it. You can take care of him now, because he needs help, and neither of you has to feel ashamed because of that. It should calm the Wolf during the transition, I believe, having something to focus on like that. And that, in return, should let you breathe a little easier and adjust to the changes quicker.”

“And what if I just want these changes to… stop?” M-21 dared to say. “Is that possible?”

The blond frowned at him, but didn’t dismiss his question. He seemed to give it a serious consideration. M-21 was always surprised when he did that - it was hard to get used to someone taking his wishes into account.  

“That’s a can of worms I’m not sure you’d want opened, M-21.” Frankenstein said in the end. He didn’t look angry, just dissatisfied. “I mean, I could try: give you another heart, figure out how to reconfigure your body once more, reverse as many processes as possible. I won’t say it’s not tempting, you’re… a scientifically fascinating case. But I would be working completely blind. It would be guesswork at best and in the end no different than…”

“An experiment.”

“Exactly.” A nod.” You would live, of course, I’m skilled enough to keep you alive, but we’ll never know how much of you will stay intact at the end.”

“But how much will be left after this transition ends?” It seemed that he could not win at this game.

“I can't tell you that, your situation is unprecedented. You said that you consider the ‘Wolf’ to be a separate awareness in your mind?” The Scientific Brain was up and running behind these blue eyes, question and answers colliding and trying to fit together.

“Yeah.” M-21 tried to find words that would describe his ‘special’ situation and his unwanted lodger. “It never leaves me alone, like a… current underneath my own… thoughts? I can quiet it for a while, but never too long.”

“Interesting.” Boss interlaced his fingers in front of him, probably itching to reach for his beloved data pad and start taking notes. What were his competences, really? Medicine through genetics across psychology and splashed with a bit of engineering? “I would wager that it’s a conglomerate of new instincts trying to reassert itself in your subconsciousness. Your brain is not used to them yet and set them apart for easier handling. At some point they will probably merge with the rest...”

“No.”

“You don’t find that solution acceptable, all right. But, tell me, M-21, are these instincts… negative in any way? What do they consist of?”

Protect them. Keep them happy. Feed the kids. Balances, strengths and weaknesses. Lead. Make them strong, keep them safe.

Kill everything that’s a threat.

M-21 didn’t say a word, but looking into the eyes of the man in front of him, somehow he knew that he doesn't have to. That Frankenstein already knows.

And approves.

*

 

“So you’re under house arrest?” Tao crashed through the door and flopped down on M-21’s bed like he owned them - the door, the bed, and the man in the room. “What did you do that Rael has to cover for you as the third Pillar of Awesome?”

“What are you talking about?” M-21 calmly kept doing push-ups as if nothing happened. So that’s where the blond nuisance disappeared to. “I’m on Holiday. I get paid and don't have to see your face for a whole day. It’s a win=win as far as I’m concerned.”

“Ah! That’s cold, my friend!”

“Tao, stop leering,” Takeo’s voice proceeded him .The sniper walked into the room and politely closed the door behind his back. “Is he bothering you, M-21?”

“When is he not?”

And now there were three grown men in his room and it was getting a bit crowded, but M-21 didn’t even think of asking them to leave. It was a high time they started to act normally around one another. He missed the status quo fiercely.

“You are such a mean bean!” Tao pouted and bounced in the mattress like an unhappy preschooler. “So cute and yet so mean!”

Another twenty push-ups should do it, the bean in question decided while the genius kept complaining. He was in good shape lately, there's no reason to go over three hundred. His knees were still not happy with him about that stunt he’d pulled a day before.

“Tao what are you…!”

Takeo’s shout was the only warning he’s got before a weight of a… well, a grown up man (albeit a skinny one) dropped on his back. His shoulders cracked and barely managed to save his nose from forcefully meeting the floor.

“ _Ack!_ Tao, geroff!”

“You don't listen to me at all,” the hacker pouted, comfortable in his cross-legged slouch. “And doing three hundred of these will get you nowhere if the resistance doesn't change. At this point you’ll have to do five hundred in a month to reach any kind of improvement.”

The genius was skinny, sure, but M-21 was tired and, God, his muscles protested at the abuse! ...and how did he even know how many he’s pushed so far? “Tao, _get off!_ ”

“Oh, you tease! I will, as soon as you give me ten!”

This was ridiculous!

“Takeo… get your… pet… off me!” M-21 turned to the sniper - only to find him stifling laughter behind a fist. “Takeo!”

“Sohe.. sorry! I... ” The chuckles were winning. “I will… sorr-eh!”

“Come on, ten and we’re sorted!” Tao had the audacity to pet his head. “I will even forgive you for giving Regis my food and not inviting us to movie nights.”

“I didn’t… invite _anyone_ …” M-21 huffed, struggling to push away from the floor.

It was easier to comply and get it over with, he decided. And Tao did have a point, however ridiculously he came at it.

“There we go. One!”

“Shut… it…”

“Two!”

“I swear…”

“Three! My, you’re so strong, M-21, I’m impressed. Like a real Wolf!”

“Takeo…”

“Better stop it now, Tao, or he may really bite you.”

“He wouldn't.”

“Oh… he… will... .” Four. “Right on... your skinny… ass.”

“I may even let you, you know? Five.”

_“Takeo…!”_

The other five were harder and took far longer than the ex-human was used to. At the end he was panting, sweat running down his face, shoulders trembling. When Tao finally deemed it okay to remove himself from his back, M-21 flopped on the floor like a landed fish and tried to look like he wants to rest and not like his arms are too weak to push him up.

“There, was it that hard?” The hacker cooed at him from the bed, hand reaching down to paw at his heaving chest. “Punishment has been served. Are we all sorted out now or do I have to resort to locking you two in a cupboard together?”

M-21 rolled his eyes mightily… and half-way upwards met Takeo’s. The sniper looked at him across the room, apologetic. It wasn't his idea, obviously, but he awaited the answer. Was he feeling bad about the punch? Still? Didn't they settle this one already?   

Or was it something else?

“Yeah… I’m good,” M-21 mumbled after a thought.

“Same here,” Takeo nodded along. “With no idea how that helped matters in any way, but I’m good.”

Tao bounced. “Sweet! Now we can be friends again so M-21 can tell us what’s going on in this furry head of his, instead of growling at me and acting like a big bad Wolf!”

Oh, so that's it. Figured, the hacker suffered on chronic allergy to not knowing stuff.

“I need to shower first.”

“No problem, you can tell us under the shower.”

“No.” Unexpectedly, Takeo didn’t seem fazed by the comment, his protest was more prosaic than outraged. “The shower is not big enough for three.”

M-21 stayed on the floor, wondering where did his life go wrong. Was living in the tank really so bad? Was it really so awful that he chose to move in with these people?

*

By the end of the week Regis was taller by almost three inches and M-21 was still on Holiday.

Seira - too good to be true - left a virtual mountain of food in the fridge for both of them, so the only plan for the day was to rot on the couch like a pair of lazy bums. Again.

M-21 considered enrolling for classes of any sort. He had a human identity - along with a last name, a bank account and life insurance(sic!), he should probably start doing something with it. Who knows how long his life will be, one day he may need education and experience in something that wasn’t dealing physical harm or being a scientific wonder.

“You can’t kill someone with a light bulb.”

“You can. It takes skill and luck, but is possible.”

“I would rather know how mobile phones are made.”

Like this, for example, he didn’t even know what human lives consisted of. How to work a coffee maker or an oven? How to drive a car? Well, he did know how to drive, theoretically… and he was better with a motorcycle, anyway. But all the laws surrounding legal driving were a mystery.

How to acquire a monthly train ticket or a library card? Speaking English? He was awful at learning new languages, sans Russian and Korean all of them sounded the same to him - dreadfully hard.

He didn't even like chocolate and coffee, something he understood normal humans considered to be a gross anomaly.

“Hey, Regis?”

“Yes?”

“Do you like coffee?”

“Hm. I’ve tried it once, in the cafeteria children took Seira and I to for Miss Yuna’s birthday. It was… interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“I believe that, given a chance, I could learn to appreciate it.”

So that was a maybe no? Maybe yes?

He’s never been to a theatre. Or a cinema, for that matter. Was there even a cinema in the city? What was on?

He probably should start reading books, the good ones, the classics. Maybe Takeo would borrow him one of his tablets and download some reading material on it? He’d never had patience for it before, but now there was so much time to waste...

“What is it, M-21?”

“Huh? What?”

“You’re making that inelegant face again. If sitting with me bores you, you’re free to do other things. I can operate the remote, I will be fine.”

“Yeah, well… I’m okay, so stop squirming.”

He wasn’t bored, just undergoing a small personal crisis. There was nothing else for him to do, anyway, apart from allowing the Wolf to baby the Noble. But, he had to admit, it wasn’t that bad. He’s never had anyone leaning on his lap like that, curled under a blanket like a caterpillar.

People probably felt like that with cats, he suspected. You stroked their back and they relaxed under your hand.

It felt kind of _nice._

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter is kinda shortish, because I need to figure out better time-scale for this ficXD  
> Also, I need to put Rael back in his place, because he pushes his way into the story=__=

Week later and Regis was an inch taller than Rael, and it made for an unending source of entertainment for M-21 whenever Kertia was confronted with the fact that now he’s the shortest one in the house. The runt of the litter, so to speak.

Other than that, it was just… strange to all involved.

Regis reaching higher than an elbow was strange. His face slowly loosing its baby fat was strange to look at: lines sharper everyday, jaw narrower, cheeks more sallow. He still ate like a beast to power the process, but his body seemed even thinner, stretched out. Elbows like daggers and fingers like needles.

M-21 was quite intimately acquainted with these sharp objects ever since the Wolf took over his interactions with the Noble. ‘Physicality’ was becoming a norm for him to some degree and he didn’t know how to feel about it. It didn't feel… natural, not just yet, but he could deal with it.

The hair grew too. From the short, slicked back cut it took a week to reach Regis’ shoulders in even, silky threads that were just ridiculous. White like snow, still, and even the stripes remained. But it tangled. God, how it tangled.

Until one day Takeo solved the problem by cornering Regis between the fridge and the cupboard, and tied his hair with one of his spare hair ties like a professional mother. A low ponytail also looked strange on the kid. Enough to make Kertia do a double-take and have Seira hum thoughtfully over it.

Throughout it all, however, the pain was a constant presence. M-21 was one of the three people privy to it, apart from Frankenstein and Him. He had a feeling that Seira wasn’t in the know, because Regis was a Noble to his marrow and Seira was like a sister to him. In his head, she worried enough already.

Everyone worried, but as the time passed, they’ve started to settle around that fear and coming to grips with it. Even Takeo calmed down, distracted by Tao’s antics, and went back to the days of dutiful housework and shooting things at the range. He started to cook too, helping Seira in the kitchen. They made a good team - to Rael’s immense displeasure (even more free entertainment).

Tao… was Tao. Nothing brought him down for long. The genius took it on himself to ‘humanise’ their one remaining Noble twit as much as possible - with the agreement from said Noble or without. Kertia had it cut out for him if he wanted to stay at the house, that’s for sure. His ignorance of normal humans and active dislike he had for the modified ones were clear enough, and Tao’s sunny attitude seemed only to magnify them.

But Kertia never snapped. He’s learned that much, at least. And from what Takeo relayed to M-21 during their weekly meetings in the laundry room, he also did a passable job as the school’s guardian.

“He seems bewildered by the positive attention he gets,” the sniper commented, snapping a pair of dress trousers in the air and inspecting them for stray lint. “From the girls especially. I think that, apart from his unhealthy crush on Seira, he’d never paid attention to women in ‘that’ way.”

“Hm.” M-21’s hamper was full of folded white shirts, sorted by size. “Not surprising. They don’t seem to be much interested in anything even remotely base.”

‘They’ meaning Nobles as a collective.

Takeo agreed with a nod. “They seem rather innocent in their attentions, don't they? Even Karias acts more like a child than an adult man looking to...”

“Get laid?” M-21 supplied when Takeo remembered that he’s Japanese.

He got a smile in return. “Exactly. And Rael, for all his posing and attitude, is surprised every time a girl comments on his looks. Surprised in a cute way. Like you used to be.”

“Hey, lay off, Tao!” M-21 growled, but in good humour. “Like you weren’t flustered!”

“I wasn’t, not like that. We were… hm, I was made aware very early on that I’m good looking, you know?” For a moment Takeo lowered his arms and looked at the hamper, thoughtful expression cut through with a self-conscious blush. He glanced at the other man from the shade of his hair. “I imagine that our environments in the labs were significantly different.”

M-21 tried not to growl. They didn’t really talk about it, not usually, not at all. Their time with the Union was something that each of them dealt with on their own… or approximately. Tao and Takeo had each other, of course, they were on one team, were made by the same person, shared some experiences. They were together. He… he wasn’t like them.

They were a prized project of an ambitious monster. He was the bottom of a scrap-heap, compared to that. He just couldn't figure out which one was better.

“We were not…” he muttered, “...made aware of much.”

Takeo nodded, as if his suspicions were confirmed. “Spare parts.”  

“What?”

“ _Spare Parts_. That’s what the big series were called, in the higher ranks.” The sniper didn't look at him as he spoke. “Experiments on batches bigger than ten. DA5 - we were all from small projects. There were three specimens in mine. About seven or eight in Jake’s? Tao, as far as I know was a single. Her pet project, there’s nothing like him in the Union, She worked on him  a lot before and after he joined the team.”

It would seem that something struck a note with the sniper and opened some sort of a window. The way he spoke of the ‘specimens’ and ‘batches’ and used the impersonal language of the scientists was disturbing, - but if it helped him to remove himself from it all, M-21 wasn’t about to stop him. Takeo didn't mention Dr Aris by the name and that was okay, she screwed him big time with the whole sister-thing, sadistic bitch.

He kinda wished they could get another chance at killing her - in a more involved way, maybe, more _personal_.

“She didn’t do big numbers, but there were a few series we… co-operated with.” A sad smile. “They were cannon fodder during missions, mostly, for the direct assault squads and what was left was used for transplantations, too. I think my right eye is from one. So, Spare Parts.”

It was shocking to some degree, to hear. But at the same time not really, no. When one brought the Union to the most basic level, it wasn’t different from a factory; it worked constantly on improving their machines and the ones that didn’t make the cut were cannibalised for parts and scrapped. It was efficient and sensible, in the long run.

“I don’t think our parts went anywhere. The M series just fell apart. I think he kind of expected us to.”

M-21 didn’t look up from his hamper, not wanting to see the pity in Takeo’s eyes. It shouldn't be there, they’ve went through the same thing, they’ve been both fucked over by the Union in equal measure. Who knew what horrors slept in the back of the sniper’s mind? Life was just unfair like that.

He heard a deep breath being taken behind his back and interjected before that air was used for words.

“If I hear you saying that you’re sorry I’ll punch you, I swear.”

The air was released in a long sigh and M-21 congratulated himself on stopping the awkward situation from happening. He set the hamper on the floor and reached for the next, this one full of colours, before a pair of arms falling over his shoulders startled him enough to drop it.

The Wolf almost got a whiplash.

“Hey…”

Takeo's body clung to his back, (he kept forgetting that the sniper is taller, huh), all long lines and slim muscle, he could feel it inch for inch. The shock kept him frozen, but the man just… breathed. Slow and steady.

The Wolf sat down, stunned and silent.

“Why does no one in this house ever talk about anything?” Takeo asked casually. “No problem is ever discussed and solved with words, did you notice it?”

Oh god, the sniper figured it out! How to force dialog on M-21 - pin him down and keep talking as long as he can’t fight back ( _he will not raise his hand against the pack, never_ ). Did he observe Tao do it or was it that obvious?

“Yeah. But then, half of us has more issues than teeth and the other half communicates with ultrasounds.” M-21 joked, doing his best to unlock his joints. Takeo was cooler than him, curiously, was he running at lower temperatures? Very alike Regis.

Or maybe it was him that ran warmer?

Once more Takeo surprised him. “Nah, if they did, I would hear them.”

“You… really?”

“Mhm. A feature useful during combat, it has to be said, but not so much in the downtime.”

“...dog whistles?”

“Don’t even think about it, I know where you sleep.”

Damn, how was he supposed to not feel inferior next to someone with upgrades so streamlined? With the speed and the sight he could adjust at will, and now this. Takeo was a war machine of the highest caliber - and under Frankenstein’s stabilising influence, he was becoming even better. Add to that being most mentally stable out of the three ex-projects, and one could become quite jealous.

If only his own upgrades were as useful.

“You can let me go now.”

“Probably.”

He was not let go.

“Did Tao tell you to do this?”

“Many times, actually.”

“Don’t… at least you don't drag me into it, please.”

Takeo finally let him go. M-21 swirled around to face the sniper who looked at him with a kind light in his turquoise eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Tao also teases with no ill will, you know, but if you're not fine with the notion, I'll tell him to stop."

M-21 was all for the genius to stop his teasing, but the question was worded strangely enough to give him a pause. "...the notion? Notion of what?"

"Eh, well," Takeo cleared his throat very conspicuously. "Sex, mostly. We don't know if you're... hm, able to? I mean, in the labs there were those who didn't want to, or couldn't. Or weren't even able to understand it. Jake, for example, couldn't perceive sex apart from violence and the less said about Shark the better."

That was something M-21 hadn’t given a thought, to be honest, and it surprised him how much of a non-issue sex has been in his life so far. Not that he has had many chances to indulge in it... Not that anyone would care if any of them did, back then. It's just that no one in the M "batch" as far as he knew even considered... Strange. It seemed like such a vital part of being human, judging by what the media kept telling him. By the way humans behaved. Searching for a mate and securing their fidelity. Physical affection. Children. Family. The works.

Takeo had a point here. Was he... impaired?

Was he born like that or was he made this way? He didn't have preferences when it came to gender... Or was it just that he didn't (maybe couldn’t) want anyone at all, so he didn't care? That was a deeply unsettling thought.

A diversion was in order. "I take it that Tao never had problems on that field?"

The sniper snorted. "He's never had problems with the base things. Though his inhibitions are a bit skeeved, since most of his knowledge about human interactions comes from media. It's only now that we're able to see how it all looks for real. Now," Takeo was apparently too smart to be waylaid so easily. “How about you?”

Damn him.

“Is that an invitation?” M-21 raised an eyebrow.

Takeo raised his in answer. “Would you take it if it was?”

What the hell…?

“...are you taking a piss out of me?”

The laundry stood forgotten as the two ex-humans kept giving each other measuring looks. There were sounds of commotion they could hear from upstairs, probably Tao playing one of his video games in the living room and trying to rope everyone else into playing against him.

“I would never make fun of you,” the sniper said in the end. “Not about this.”

“So why are you asking?” M-21 tried not to fidget. Earnestness was something he wasn’t comfortable with. “Did Tao…?”

Oh god, please, keep Tao away from his nonexistent sex-life!

“No. I’m just… concerned. Okay,” Takeo brushed the hair away from his face and sighed, “ we’re concerned.”  

“With my love life?

“Not exactly. Just - you, I guess. About you.” A shrug. “I know, strange, we’re probably the same age and you can take care of yourself, but lately… Lately you’ve had so many things coming up, and now this matter with Shinwoo and the Wolf acting up, not to mention Regis.” Takeo smiled disarmingly and looked him straight in the eyes. “You’re not as good at hiding it as you think you are, you know? You’ve been stretched thin for a while and it starts to show.”

M-21 fought a battle not to lower his gaze. He scoffed, and turned his head, bending down to gather the laundry he’s dropped, mumbling awkwardly: “We all are.”

“Probably. But you have this habit of putting yourself last, of protecting everyone at any cost, that the rest of us doesn't appreciate.”

The Wolf agreed. M-21 wanted to escape from the small room, but the exit was blocked by a tall, perplexingly perceptive Japanese man. What were his eyes made of? Was his insight also 20/20?

“We just want you to know that you don't have to, M-21, that we’re also here for you if you need us.”

He turned around with the basket in his hands, a few dismissive answers battling for command on his lips against awkward acknowledgements and one or two muttered thanks. He was okay, he didn't need help. It was touching that the sniper proposed, really, he appreciated it, but he was fine. What were they expecting of him, that he will cry on someone's shoulder when going gets tough? None of them talked about feelings, so what was the point of getting the subject off the ground? He was coping.

But Takeo looked at him with such solemn honesty M-21 had trouble finding any words at all. Actually, he had a bit of a trouble breathing.

They stared at one another and the time started to slow down, M-21’s mind floated in the weightlessness that took over his stomach. Then Takeo put a hand on his face and he leaned in, and they kissed.  

M-21 blanked out for full ten seconds, or at least it felt like it. His senses scrambled all over the place trying to ingest every detail - the feel, the taste, the warmth... the sheer what the hell of the situation. The notion that the sniper was for all intents and purposes already taken, and then the worry that Tao might have put a camera in the laundry room, because his mad mind predicted this exact situation happening. He could kill them both or cheer on them; M-21 didn't know which option was worse.

He was so focused and dumbfounded that a hand landing on his upper arm - a gentle, soothing touch - made him jump. He felt Takeo smiling against his lips before he retreated.

"Hey, easy," the sniper said, not taking his hands away. "You can open your eyes, you know?"

Were they closed? Oh. They were. He felt like a freaking virgin.

Which he was, technically, but that was beside the point.

"Hey," again, this gentle voice. "Breathe, M-21, Boss will dodge my pay if he learns that I broke you."

"If he learns at all, I will dodge your teeth," M-21's mind chose a snappy comeback at random.

A chuckle made him realise how silly it was. "Alright then, he won't learn from me."

Didn't mean that he won't know. Frankenstein was terrifyingly apt at finding out about things that happened behind his back.

Takeo patted his arm and finally took his hands away. The Wolf whined at the loss and then seemed confused at the reaction. It was all surprisingly very not awkward. Like they did it every day - kissed in the laundry room like a pair of human teenagers.

"Hey, uh..." M-21 started, unsure what to say. Unsure if he's supposed to say anything at all.

Takeo read him like an open book. "Don't worry. I won't do it again if you don't wish it. This one was for you, so you can see if you like it."

Ah. So that's why. Okay, it was a good enough reason.

But the bigger question remained.

 _Did_ he like it?

****

Cooking was harder than it looked.

So M-21 decided very early on that he will leave this particular duty in the hands of those skilled enough not to burn the house down. His skill extended as far as boiling water for the tea and ramen went, and sometimes a rare, misshapen sandwich.

Which put him in a rather uncomfortable mindset whenever the pack came back from school and Seira was stepping into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Meanwhile, he was bored out of his mind after a day of doing nothing, but watching TV and arguing with Regis.

"Don't even think about offering to cook.” Said runt was surprisingly straightforward when he saw M-21 considering the kitchen utensils one day . "Seira is very proud of her skills and your enjoyment of her dishes." Then his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side: a considering look of a cat confronted with a new strange thing. “ _Can_ you even cook?”

M-21’s pride stung at that. “Better than you,” he snapped.

“You never saw me cooking,” Regis countered, folding his long arms across his thin chest. “It would be embarrassing to you if it turned out that I can do it well.”

Now he was just leading him on. ...wasn’t he?

“Then why won’t you help Seira instead of Takeo?”

“She never asked me for help, it would be rude to assume she needs it.”

Damn, but the concentrated growing spurt gave the kid a serious upgrade to his game face. When it lost its baby fat it became even harder to read, more so that the ex-human was still kinda unfamiliar with it.

It still surprised him in the mornings when he stepped downstairs and saw a virtual stranger occupying the couch. There were a few times when he woke up with a cool body occupying his bed that he could not identify at the first glance.  

He tried to come to terms with the changes, for his own sake and Regis’. It was still strange as all heck, though, to have the Noble suddenly tall and poised, yet still expecting to see the little kid he was barely a month ago. M-21 kinda… missed that Regis. Even if his behaviour didn't change, if the kid was still the same person, it just didn't seem the same coming from a form so different.

He observed that others were also acting a bit different around Regis.

Seira seemed the least affected, though she kept up with the temperature checks and incorporated other little touches into their interactions. That could be explained as simple worry for her almost-little-brother and the need to reassure herself that he’s alright and still alive.

Tao was also essentially the same, it was just his sense of humour that sharpened around Regis; when Seira and Him were not present, the genius loosened the reins on his restraint and allowed for the more chancy jokes to slip out. Everything in good humour, of course, but sometimes even M-21 had to fight a blush at some of the raunchier comments. As if Tao was just waiting for all of the housemates to grow up, so he doesn’t have to hold his tongue anymore.

Rael, however, was the one that was hit the worst by the transformation.

Kertia seemed… lost. Somewhat worried, somewhat resentful, somewhat angry. Visibly annoyed with the need to look _up_ when speaking to Regis. Distracted by the pack dynamics changing around him and with the way he himself started to suddenly _fit_ within them. He didn't know what to do and how to act, it looked, when violence wasn’t a viable option anymore. He still had these annoying, bratty moments that made others want to strangle him with his own suspenders, but they were rare and far between now. Mostly they were a culmination of a stressful day and the kid’s inability to express his emotions in a productive way.  

Surprisingly, it was Tao who took it on himself to detect and redirect these moods. He teased and bothered, and was an ass for as long as it took to cause a controlled explosion of Kertia’s temper before it grew too strong to contain.

Rael stopped talking to Regis almost completely, just looked at him like he was some strange new animal traversing his land, and every time he was caught at it, he scoffed like an affronted feline and left the room. The end of the screaming matches between the two was relieving, but concerning all the same.

***

They were sitting in M-21’s room again, catching up on the murder-mystery soap and learning how things are made in the commercial breaks. The Noble steadily chewed through a bag of dried apple slices (healthier than candy, as Boss decided) and M-21 sipped on a cup of milky tea - he was trying every new beverage he could think of, attempting to build a base of reference for his tastes. Coffee was out, but tea with milk was fine. Two days ago, for example, he’s discovered that he prefers his cereal served with hot milk instead of cold, which nearly gave Tao an aneurysm.

“So, what’s wrong with Rael?” He asked when the evil twin finished her triumphant speech over a body of her former boyfriend.  

Regis didn't move his eyes from the TV, engrossed in the spectacle. “I can give you a list, if you want, but that has to wait till my hand heals.”

“Wow, your wit is improving.” M-21 commented with no real bite. There was too much blood around the body. Stab wounds of the size didn’t bleed this much. “But I’m serious, his silent phase is creeping me out.”

“I don’t know, M-21.” A shrug. “Can’t say I don’t appreciate the quiet.”

“It bothers you, thought, doesn’t it? That he treats you different.”

“You all treat me ‘ _different_ ’, I can get used to it.”

‘ _Can_.’ Meaning that he didn't do it yet. Which was unpleasant to think about.

“Does it bother you?”

“It’s only natural.”

“Not what I’m asking about.”

“You’re asking very personal questions.”

“Does _that_ bother you?”

M-21 wasn’t trying to be an asshole. Not even a little. He was trying to understand them, the Nobles, and this one in particular, in the only way he knew how. Asking questions as straightforward as possible was the only way to get answers with this lot.  

It took Regis a bit of mulling before he answered, as he always did when the subject turned personal or concerned emotions. He always lowered his eyes when it happened, introspective look stole over his face as if he was listening to some inner voice that whispered him the right answers. “...yes.” He said in the end. “In Lukedonia we speak… differently. People respect your silence.”

“You don’t speak in Lukedonia.” M-21 snorted half-heartedly. “You do the polite thing so you don't have to talk about important stuff. Like it embarrasses you, or something. That’s where a lot of your problems stems from, you know?”

He didn't have to turn his head to know that the red eyes were looking at him from under raised eyebrows, he could feel the gaze on his face like a caress with a steel brush. It took a lot to ignore it.

“Maybe it’s people here that are too tactless,” Regis stated with dignity.

“Kertia used to be, too.” And that was a bit strange, considering, wasn’t it? Rael and Karias, and the previous Lord himself; they were almost normal. Emotional and expressive on human scale. How did they manage it? “But then he went back to being like the rest of the stiff crowd from the island.”

Or at least tried very hard to be like them. The kid probably wanted to impress his brother.

Wait. That reminded him of someone.

M-21 looked at Regis and hummed in thought.

“Though you have your rude moments too, from time to time.” He mused. “And Gejutel, even if he hides it well. Is spanishness a family trait of the Landegre, passed along with the stripes?”

“You’re being rude,” was the only answer he got. 

“You can always go.”

“It’s late, Seira is sleeping.”

“This stopped being a good excuse at the third try, you know? If you ask the boss, he will install a TV in your room.”

“I can't eat in my room.”

“...you are such a brat, I swear to God.”

“ _Shhh_ , the boyfriend isn’t dead!”

And what do you know, he wasn’t. How had the guy survived the loss of three litres of blood (from the looks of it) was unexplained, but that was a late-night television for you. The trick employed in his resurrection was later revealed in great detail, but by that point both M-21 and Regis were paying little to no attention to the show. Much as usual, they've changed their positions from vertical to horizontal gradually, slipping down the headboard with no knowledge of it until their heads hit the pillows and all limbs were arranged under the covers..

It was a bit strange, because the bed was still a single and now there were two adult-sized men in it - not one and a half - and there was still enough space for them and two sets of bedding.

Two, because Regis started bringing his own blanket, which was much thicker and softer than M-21’s blanket. Not that the ex-human needed to sleep under covers, he was perfectly happy without them, always warm enough even with the bedroom window open. But it was the principle of things - he was obligated to complain whenever a suspicion of favouritism arose in the house.

The Noble also had his own pillow now, even though he seemed to hate it - with the way he tended to migrate in his sleep just enough that he kept waking up with his head stuck between said pillow and M-21’s shoulder. This tiny, almost inconsequential touch seemed to embarrass him to no end. M-21 stopped feeling awkward about it when he discovered how entertaining the brat was in the mornings - all sleepy and slow on the uptake. Cute, really.

With a half-coherent flick of the remote the ex-human switched the TV off and turned in. His brain slowly fell asleep as the Wolf took over stroking his hand up and down Regis’ hunched back.

That was the only thing Regis was able to dismiss the discomfort and compromise his personal space for, it would seem. He never asked for it, of course, but it was enough to see his shoulders dropping and his face smoothing out for M-21 to decide that he will provide the massage with no questions asked. It was something that comrades did, wasn't it?

However, an hour into a quite pleasant dream his consciousness was nudged awake by a cold nose of a concerned beast. The Wolf whined, because the body next to them wasn't relaxing. It was awake and shivering.

Damn, again.

It seemed that along with the powers and immunity, Regis' central heating also took a kick in the teeth. He was such a mess: nearly constantly in pain, when he wasn't eating he was freezing. And he was always so frustratingly stoic about it.

“Are you cold again?” M-21 whispered in the dark. The bundle at his side shook a bit stronger. He took it as a yes and sighed. “You have to learn how to ask for help, Regis, this is getting ridiculous.”

“There’s hardly anything you can do... to make it better... at the moment. So there’s little reason to... disturb your rest.”

There was something he could do. Something he remembered from the past, from the labs. One good memory he’s had from there. Something they all did when the nights grew cold and the experiments cruel. A small, natural gesture that was all about comfort and warmth… for humans.

Regis may either try to kill him for attempting it or die of a heart attack.

Well, he won't know until he tries.

“What… what are you doing?!”

“Roll the other way, face to me.”

When the order was not met with an instant compliance, the ex-human took it on himself to help the Noble change position. None too gently and considerate, but he was half-asleep and is brain fired on spare fuses.

“M-21…! What… Why do you...”

He had no time for this. “You remember when we talked about the touching thing?”

“...yes?” The tone said ‘make your case and do it quick before I punch you.’

“Well, this is it. The care thing. You’re cold, I’m warm, I’m trying to help. Sleep.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Okay. Thank you, good night.”

“Yeah.”

The brat was all limbs and ribs, damnit, thinner than even Tao! Easy to fold into an embrace and light enough that slipping one arm underneath him wasn’t uncomfortable. And as soon as M-21 pulled the blankets over them the shivering has stopped. Good, maybe he will be able to sleep through the night.

 

***

He slept through the night. They both did, quite well, to be said.

If only the awakening was as pleasant - but no, it was a tip of a cold nose nudging under his chin, pushing his head up until his spine started to creak.

“Whhf… runt… wha…”

A minute of half-conscious fumbling later M-21 started to gather his wits and discovered that he’s lying under a pile of bones wrapped in flannel, and that these bones are digging into him in many unpleasant ways… or ways that should be unpleasant, but that his mind found acceptable this early in the morning, and wasn’t that a surprise in on itself?

If only the face glued to his neck would stop crushing his windpipe..

“Regis, if you’re hungry go have some cereal and leave my neck alone.”

The reaction was instantaneous. The Noble surged up into a sitting position, face aflame, lips open in shock. As if M-21 said something shocking… wait.

“...no mentioning of drinking blood?” He ventured, uneasily.

Regis nodded stiffly. “I would be grateful if you didn’t.”

“Insulting?”

“...outrageous.”

“Others?”

“Rael may stab you with Grandia. The Noblesse may be… displeased.”

“Oh. Okay.”

New ground rule imposed, Regis let out a jaw-creaking yawn and looked around, pulling the blanket over himself, as if he wasn’t sure where he woke up in. He had no right to look as young and cute as he did being two hundred years old, but when was common sense ever applicable to him? His tangled mane alone just begged for someone to coo over it.

M-21 used the time to stretch and crack his spine back into shape. A look at the clock told him that it was half past five in the morning, good enough time for breakfast and a quick jog around the neighbourhood. The others should be waking up soon, so he had a real chance to get the first crack at the shower.

“If you want to sleep some more, go ahead,” he said to the Noble, getting up from the bed. “I’m going to take a shower… what is it?”

But Regis was rubbing his face, ignoring him completely. “Itchy,” he mumbled.

God, what now?

“Okay, show me.”

*

“Peach fuzz!” Tao’s enthusiastic shout was accompanied by a brazen attempt to rub his cheek against Regis’. The sheer degree of boldness caused the attempt to succeed. “So soft!”

“Tao, down!” Takeo, as always, attempted to restrain the genius, but his eyes were smiling.

Regis looked vaguely uncomfortable, and M-21 felt like growling at the hacker for a reason he could not fanthom.

“Our little boy is growing up so fast!”

“Tao, he’s almost your height today.”

“Doesn’t matter! He’ll always be my little boy!”

Takeo looked at M-21 and shrugged a very outspoken ‘hey, I tried’. It was known around the house as a ‘Tao shrug’.

“Is this normal, then?” Regis cut in, palming his jaw curiously. “The… _peach fuzz_?”

“Yes, it is, for human youngsters,” the sniper explained kindly. “Before they can grow a beard, they get this. Isn’t it normal for Nobles?”

“I don’t know. Very few of us have beards.”

“Hm, strange.” Now Tao rubbed his chin in thought. “Gejutel has quite a magnificent beard going on there, also that guy… Kaye? The big burly one? Rocking that permanent five o’clock shadow like a boss. I thought the rest just shaves?”

If Regis' eyes could get any bigger while the genius kept throwing praise at his fellow Nobles’ facial hair, they would fall right out at the last mention. “Shaves?”

“Oh no,” Takeo moaned, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “This is the same like with the food thing, isn't it? They don’t have to eat, they don’t have to shave, what else, are they breathing just because it’s fashionable?”

“Hey, I don't have to shave!” Tao stated proudly. “I’ve never shaved in my life!”  

“Of course we have to breathe!” Regis assured, affronted. “Not all the time, of course, but we do need air!”

“Not all the… you know what, no. I’m not following that one up.”

“Good, maybe you’ll start eating, then?” M-21 cut into the growing argument, setting the last plate of scrambled eggs on the counter in front of the sniper. Regis and Tao already had their own plates. “It will taste even worse when it’s cold.”

He was turning all domestic and stuff with these three around, damn them. Good thing that Seira was still upstairs, getting ready for school, and Raizel-nim still haven’t picked the right uniform for the day. M-21 refused to start brewing tea. Rael was absent and it was fine, his presence was hard to stand at six o’clock in the morning.   

“So, do I have to shave?”

“If it bothers you, M-21 can show you how to do it.” Takeo smiled. “He’s the only one that shaves regularly.”

“Hey! Who said you can volunteer me?”

“I will watch, too!” Tao ignored the protest like a professional.

“No, you won’t.” Takeo interrupted. “You’re going to work.”

Regis was trying to keep up, but Tao was Tao and he always had at least two miles headstart. "Why would you want to watch someone else shaving?" The Noble asked.

"You don't want to know." M-21 suspected some strange fetish. Everything was possible with the hacker. "Eat your breakfast, brat, I will show you how to do it properly later."

"If he has to be shown how to shave, he's hardly a kid anymore." Takeo smiled at them all like a proud parent. "Shut up, Tao."

The genius snapped his mouth shut without uttering a word and pointedly focused on his plate.

*

“I never thought that humans have to go through so many obstacles to keep their appearance tidy,” Regis muttered, staring at the razor like it was an unknown weapon. “It’s strange to me.”

“Yeah…” M-21 agreed uneasily. “I’m still learning some of the stuff myself.” In the labs there was no need for much of it. He still didn't know what to do with his hair most of the time, so he just let it fall whichever way it wanted to go. Thankfully, it mostly wanted down. “You know, you don't have to shave, if you don't want to.”

To be honest, there was hardly anything to shave on the kid’s face. Tao’s description: ‘peach fuzz’ fit perfectly, the sparse hairs were pale and soft, barely visible when one wasn’t looking for them. Not like the rug the M-21 himself had to fight with every morning - for which he blamed the Wolf entirely, because he clearly remembered that it wasn’t an issue before the transformations began. At least Takeo assured him that he doesn’t look like a yeti when the werewolf mind takes over and so far the hair in human form stayed on his face. He wasn’t eager to start growing this stuff on his back or toes, thank you.

In the present, M-21 was just about to apply the shaving cream to his face, when a strange hand got in the way and landed on his cheek.

Seriously, what was with people touching his face lately? Was it some joke he wasn’t in on?

Regis hummed and stroked gently down his jaw. “It _is_ scratchy,” he said eyebrows narrowing  in thought. “But only a bit.” Another stroke. “Not unpleasant.”

“Wait till noon,” M-21 quipped, leaning back from the touch. “Sandpaper seems soft in comparison, then. Now hands off, brat, I’m busy.”

“ _Tch!_ and rude, but that’s hardly a surprise.”

Usually, he was averse to doing anything under supervision, especially such minute one, so today his morning routine was quite awkward. A couple of times his hand slipped and he cut himself - a humiliating accident that didn't happen since the very first time he’d shaved. Thankfully, his healing factor closed the tiny wounds before they started to bleed. One useful thing that came with the heart, he guessed.

Regis, of course, saw the cuts happening and winced every time. He also kept scratching at his own face, harder and harder as the time went by. When the red welts started to trail after his nails, M-21 has had enough.

“Stop mauling yourself!” He snapped. “It can’t itch that much!”

He was rushing through the last few strokes of the razor, braving the danger just to have both of his hands free in time to stop more damage from happening. If the kid ended up with a bloody face again, there was no telling what Takeo will do. Dodging bullets was a pain in the ass.

“It’s not just the itching,” the Noble protested, but obediently forced his hand down to rest on the cast enclosing the other one. “It’s the feeling of… there’s something on my face that wasn’t there before. It’s distracting and… irritating.”

Oh god, OCD too? Was it the same thing they went through with Tao? M-21 hoped not, there was enough drama involved into setting the room for the genius - if he's forced to use a ruler while arranging furniture one more time, he’ll snap.

“Okay, then!” A splash of water to get rid of the leftover foam, a dab of soothing cream and M-21 was good to go. He threw the face towel at the hook and pointed to the rim of the bathtub. “Sit down, I’ll do it for you.”

The look of derision he got for it was instantaneous and cut to the bone. “I can manage…” the kid deadpanned.

“To cut off your your face, yeah. Just… just freaking let me do it until your hand heals.”

He was sure that there was a spare razor in the cupboard, Frankenstein was serious when it came to basic supplies. The house was stocked as if the Apocalypse itself was scheduled for the first Monday of the next month.

“M-21…”

He sighed and closed the cupboard, spare razor in hand. He looked at the Noble with an unpleasant suspicion scratching the back of his mind.

“I’m not going to do anything strange, you know that,” he clarified, feeling stupid and at the same time kind of sad that he has to do it.

“It’s not that. It’s…”

“...the touching thing?”

Regi shrugged. “We’re not tactile like humans are.”

“Well, neither are human experiments. I’m not exactly rearing to do it myself, but you need help and I can provide it, so...” When did he start to change into Boss?

“Is it the Wolf instincts?”

The question stunned M-21 speechless for a moment. Surprisingly straightforward for a Noble, - for this Noble - and accompanied by a glare he could not read.

“Maybe,” he mumbled. Was he being an asshole again and wasn’t aware of it? He was trying really hard to be civil the last couple of days. “Maybe it's just me going insane.”

Regis nodded, as if that answered anything. Was this one of these rare moments of his abnormal insight? “I told you, everyone treats me differently.” He said calmly. “And out of everyone in the house, you do it the most.” He lowered his voice to whisper almost. “I’m weak, but I’m not damaged, or useless, M-21. I’m not dying. If you treat me like this out of pity, then I will ask you to stop.”

...what was he supposed to say to that? How was he even supposed to attempt to sidestep all the ways in which this could go wrong?

Pity? Was he really…? It just seemed too easy of an explanation, too easy for what he was and what they’ve all been through.

The Wolf nudged its way into M-21’s thoughts and pushed at the doubt with a single-mindedness that the ex-human briefly envied. It told him that Regis is pack, so of course they’re going to care for him. That the Noble is weak at the moment, so the pack has to close ranks and protect him. It wasn’t pity, in the beast’s mind, it was just they way things were done.  

And M-21 realised with no small amount of surprise that it made sense to him, too.

“It’s not pity,” he said out loud. He fought with all his instincts that told him to avoid the other's eyes, fought to keep his gaze steady and honest. “You are ... “ he tried to say this safe, familiar word, _a comrade_ , but at the last moment his lips shaped a different sound, “...ours, aren’t you? We won't leave you alone with this.”

Regis looked at him for a long moment, red eyes unmoving, their gaze piercing in its intensity and M-21… let him see. He dropped his shields, every single one of them, and allowed the earnestness to show on his face. He was sure that if the brat was still fully functional ,he would have his conscience rooting through his brain, trying - politely of course - to follow up on his thoughts and understand his reasoning. As of now, Regis could only judge what his eyes were seeing and it was one more thing that made his vulnerability evident.

And it was the only thing that allowed M-21 to hide the fact that he wasn’t sure who he actually meant, when he said “we”.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, a lot of stuff was happening :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Don’t move now.”

M-21’s hand was unwavering as it glided the razor’s edge along the leather-covered skin. His other hand gently grasped Regis’ chin, turning it this and that way depending on the direction of the strokes. With his eyebrows lowered in concentration, the former human was so focused on this task that he’s even managed to forget how awkward it all was.

This was the third time he was performing this favour for the Noble and the novelty slowly started to wear off. Not entirely, because the face under his hands kept changing in miniscule, but noticeable ways on daily basis and there was always something else that grabbed his attention without any warning - the way Regis’ eyelids creased when the brat closed his eyes, how pale his eyelashes were, how he sometimes just stopped breathing for almost a minute before he remembered himself and started again.

The last one was something that M-21 wasn’t going to mention to Takeo, ever. The sniper had enough problems with believing that Nobles ate for sport rather than necessity - the notion that one could forget to breathe would break the poor man’s mind.  

His was already broken, he suspected, and the proof in the pudding was right in front of him. How many functions was he performing for the brat now? A barber, a bed-warmer, a masseur, a cook, a nurse, a protector, a hand-me-this-and-that-er and explain-humans-to-me-please-er. And the boss still didn’t want to pay him extra!

M-21 didn't think it possible, but he started to miss his actual job at the school. Not that taking care of Regis was a hassle, because the Noble was constantly refusing to become a burden, but the monotony was starting to get to him. There was only so many times one could watch how cotton candy is made, or get angry at the ineptitude of fictional serial killers. He started reading books and it was going well at first, but after a while it became obvious that his mind may not be ready for such extravagant hobbies and his body outright detests inactivity. Go figure. The boss advised him to listen to audiobooks and that was much better - he could get his daily portion of culture while huffing away on a treadmill.

As big as the house was, it was still a box that the Wolf wanted out of.

“I was thinking,” M-21 spoke, carefully pulling the razor along the side of the Noble’s chin.

Regis, unsurprisingly, was able to speak without as much as moving his lips. “How was it? Did you sprain anything?”

“Hardy har. Keep joking and see if my hand won’t slip.”

A sigh and a palest of smirks. “You wouldn’t hurt me intentionally. The Homeowner would be unhappy.”

The brat was right - to some degree. Frankenstein would be a welcome distraction after the Wolf finished chewing his ass out for hurting one of its packmembers. And sometimes docked pay almost seemed worth it…

A pause. “What were you thinking about?”

“That we should go out.” M-21 answered. He pulled the Noble’s face up a notch to get to the underside of his jaw. “Outside, I mean. Don't you get bored with spending the whole day in front of a TV?”

Regis blinked and his eyes widened, as if this question never occurred to him. Probably it never did, seeing how Nobles thrived in unchanging scenery for ages.

“If you’re bored,” the brat mumbled stiffly, “you can always go. You don't have to stay inside for my benefit.”

And here they were, back at the ‘I can get by on my own’ shpiel that they both knew to be a total bullshit when someone’s way of dealing with problems consisted mainly of trying to wait them out.

How did the Nobles managed to survive as a specie, again?

“If I wanted to go, believe me, I would.” M-21 lied shamelessly - or maybe he just wanted to believe that he would be able to do it, that the fanged guilt wouldn’t stop him at the door. “The point I’m trying to make is that it's not healthy to pickle like that for weeks on end. There’s some interesting stuff happening outside I thought we can see.”

“Stuff?” A pale eyebrow went up. “What kind of stuff?”

“Well, there’s a cinema just round the corner. And a museum about ten minutes from home. We can eat out, too, there’s enough food stalls to fill that bottomless pit of a stomach you have.”

A thoughtful hum was his answer. It was a signal to pull out the big guns.

“I’m just saying. If you don't feel up to it, of course, we will stay put. There’s no point in going out if you're still weak like a kitten.”

From the way Regis’ lips tightened, he knew it was only a matter of time now. Looking like a young adult or not, the brat was still pathetically easy to con.

“There.” The last glide of the razor and the ex-human handed the Noble a towel. “Clean yourself and get out, I’m going to take a shower and shave too… Hey.”

Regis wasn’t listening to him, his attention was completely consumed by his reflection in the mirror. With a towel clutched in one hand, the Noble slowly turned his head one way then the other, not moving his eyes from the image reflected back at him.

Well, okay, M-21 had to admit that the brat looked rather good this morning - better than usually, that is. He wasn’t so sickly pale anymore and the circles under his eyes started to disappear. Takeo has managed to corner him again before going to work, but instead of the usual low ponytail, the sniper did a quick ninja move that singled the black stripes out and somehow managed to wind them around so they stood out even more, but… in an attractive way?

How did he even do it? Not only was Takeo a perfect weapon, an amazingly decent guy, but now a stylist too? The hell…

“Don’t stay too long admiring yourself,” M-21 teased, annoyed with the injustice of it all. “Vanity is a very inelegant trait.”

Instead of firing back some snappy comeback, the Noble flinched, turning away from the mirror, an embarrassed flush dusting his cheeks. “I’m not admiring myself,” he said, as an afterthought. “Just… eh, nothing.”

Come to think of it, the brat wasn’t very fond of mirrors lately.

“Hey,” M-21 put a hand on the thin arm. “Remember what I told you? Stop pretending that everything’s fine when it isn’t. What is it this time? Did I cut you? Something hurts?”

Are you also freaked out by your appearance? Because the rest of us already went through that stage a couple of weeks ago and we can serve some pointers.

“It’s nothing of the sort,” Regis patted his hand and freed himself. “I just... didn't expect that I will resemble my father so much.”

Left with that, M-21 didn’t have a riposte.

  


*

  


After showering and the rest of his morning routine, M-21 stopped trying to figure out what Regis meant with that last comment - why reminding his father seemed strange to him when it seemed like the Noble families elevated the concept of familial resemblance to ridiculous heights. The brat was similar to Gejutel… so why not his own father? Ah well.

Said brat was already occupying the couch, curled up under his blanket, a bowl of popcorn under one arm. The TV was playing some program about American national parks. Instead of joining the Noble in front of it, M-21, feeling restless, decided to do some chores.

He had to be going stir-crazy because he’s done not only is share of housework, - he did all of it. Washed the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, mopped the floors, vacuumed and did the laundry, and Takeo was going to kill him for doing his part. Every once in a while he stopped by the couch to ask Regis if he needs anything only to be staunchly reassured that everything is alright. So he just kept bringing the brat more food.

By the time he stopped with the last chore, M-21 realised that most of the day was already gone and that he’s standing in the kitchen over a plate of sandwiches, a row of mugs and a pot filled with hot tea.

The Wolf was as confused as him. He didn't even remember making them!

A careful sideways look told him that Regis feel asleep to the low murmur of the television and that was fine, at least this kind of humiliation he was saved from. The brat would doubtlessly rib him about taking over Seira’s duties.

If there was only a way to conceal the whole thing before the rest comes back home…

  


*

  


Rael, unsurprisingly, looked quite good in a suit.

Surprisingly, he detested wearing it. Every day for the last month as soon as his foot crossed the threshold, he was nearly tearing himself out of the jacket and the dress shoes - respectfully putting them away, of course, - with his face twisted into a disgusted snarl.

M-21 tried with all his might not to relate to the brat in that matter - he hated every situation where he was forced to wear a uniform of any kind -, but it was a lost cause. The more human traits Kertia showed, the more it was obvious that they reflect something of an ex-human and neither him not the Noble appreciated it.

Hell, once upon a time M-21 has been young and rash, and stupid himself, and only M24’s calm disposition kept him from getting killed every other day.

“Cool, sandwiches!” Tao, as usual, was the first to notice and appreciate the food put before him. He walked into the house and didn’t stop until he was an inch or less away from the sandwiches. One would think that he was the one with a canine sense of smell.

“They should get you through until dinner.” M-21 tried to seem unaffected and unembarrassed by the stares he was receiving. He still wasn’t sure what thought process was responsible for this sudden bout of good will.

Tao apparently felt it, because his next words were a bit too teasing. “Oh, M-21, so domestic! Just wait, you will turn into a perfect wife yet!”

“I will turn your face into mush if you don’t stop spewing crap.”

The rest of the household was slowly pouring in, the Boss closing the procession. He seemed completely unaffected by the new situation; he reached for a sandwich and picked a cup of tea with an appreciative nod. However, his strange sense of humor had to choose this moment to rear it's head.

“Hm, another woman in the house would be beneficial.” The bastard mused. “Miss Seira could use some more refined company.”

Miss Seira smiled in passing.

M-21 felt an urge to punch a wall.

Only Takeo was willing to step into the line of fire to change the subject. “Where’s Regis?”

“Sleeping…”

“No, not anymore.” A blurry voice reached them from the living room. Regis stood up from the couch, still wrapped in his blanket, drowsy and disheveled. “Welcome home, I will move to my room.”

M-21 closed his eyes when the kid yawned - this level of adorableness was way above his ability to deal with at the moment. Especially when the wolf started to wag its tail like a smitten asshole.

However, the ex-human was surprised to see that Rael, who was about to stomp back to his own room, froze. A faint blush stole over his face and he started after Regis with a dumbfounded expression.

The hell? Was he the only one seeing it?

“I will be back for dinner,” Kertia said absentmindedly when the door closed behind the kid.

Thankfully, nothing escaped Tao. “Naaaaah!” The genius stepped up and daringly grabbed the Noble by the arm. “Not even close. Wanna tell the class what’s this all about?”

He was either brave or dim enough to ignore the killer glare directed at his hand.  

“What do you mean?” Rael was not good at playing stupid. Not with that blush.

But he was not moving away, held in place either by the fear of acting out in front of the Boss and Noblesse, or by his own good upbringing. No matter how bratty, Nobles were so easy to trap into the downfalls of polite conduct.

“That look. You looked at Regis is if he grew a second head. What was it about?”

Kertia was getting hot under the collar. “I don’t see why is that any of your…”

“Regis looks very similar to sir Reginald today.” Said Seira from the kitchen, calm and collected as ever. “It’s startling.”

That caused the three ex-humans to blink.

“Who’s sir Reginald?” M-21 asked.

Rael sneered. “You call yourself his friends and you don’t even know the…”

And Seira, once more, cut him off. “Sir Reginald was Regis’ parent.”

Oh.

“Okay, that makes sense. But hey, that means,” Tao slid back to Kertia like a very insistent and smug snake. “You had a crush on Regis’ dad or what?”

To their collective surprise, the blonde snorted and rolled his eyes instead of blushing. “Who didn’t,” he finally said.

“So what, Regis’ da was a looker?”

“Sir Reginald was very handsome.” There was also a small blush endearingly covering the bridge of Seira’s nose. “Even by the Noble standards. He was also extremely polite and dignified.”

“Elegant.” Said Rei from behind his teacup. As usual, everyone froze and looked to Frankenstein for clarification.

There was an embarrassed tilt to his head as he drank his tea. “I’ve seen him only once or twice,” the boss stated, tugging briefly at his collar. “But he was, indeed, very… ah, comely.”

“No way, even the Boss…” Tao whistled. “Heh, now I regret that I won’t be able to meet him.”

“He would find you tiring,” Rael spoke with one foot out of the room. “But he would pretend that he doesn’t. He was foolish like that.”

The door closed.  

“I sense issues,” Takeo mused, tying his apron. “Better leave it alone.”

“Aww, but now I’m curious!” Tao whined.

“Tao.”

“Aww, okay, you killjoy.”  

The rest of the housemates slowly went about their daily business from there, either preparing dinner or disappearing into the depths of mad science.  For is part, M-21 decided to leave them to it and retire to his room - Tao’s very presence was draining his energy fast.

On the way, however, he was stopped by an unusual feeling of bugs crawling up his back.  

The Wolf stilled and lowered its head submissively - that clued the ex-human as to what was happening.

Raizel was looking at him. Not, as he used to do, in his general direction, but _at him_ . And at the Wolf at the same time. With this unnerving calm and _oh God what was it this time_?

Pushed by the beast in his head and pulled by the even more persuasive force of common sense, the ex-human stopped to turn fully, but the Noblesse waved a smooth hand to signal that nothing is needed of him.

And then he smiled.

M-21 couldn't get out of the room fast enough.

  


*

  


“Fifteen.”

“You don't... have to count… you know?”

“Sixteen. It just seems appropriate. Seventeen.”

“Hey! Just don’t… fall...”

“Then try to keep the balance. Eighteen.”

“Can you… read your book… and shut up…”

“Hmph!”

The push ups were hard enough with an additional weight sitting cross legged on his back, M-21 didn't need said weight to run a commentary for him. Tao was right when he said that just doing pushups won’t count for much for M-21. Regis wasn’t heavy enough to account for much, - for all his new height, he was still startlingly petite in all other aspects - but if he was going to occupy the ex-humans living space, he can at least be useful.

“How many do you have to do?” If only he could shut up.

“... fifty… and what?”

“I’m just curious.”

Well, M-21 was also curious about something.

“Hey…”

“Yes? Twenty seven.”

“Did you know… that Rael… had a crush… on your father?”

“Hm, many did. Twenty nine.”

Well, the matter of fact way the Noble said it was a bit strange. Usually they shied from anything feeling-related. Curious and curiouser.

“Seira said… he was a… looker… Boss too… and Rai…”

“Noblesse said…?” Oh how he wished that he could see the kid’s face. He sounded shocked!” “Oh, well, I guess… eh, yes. Father was very elegant.”

And again, this word. Elegant. Not handsome, or cute, or even beautiful. Elegant. What did that even mean in their minds?

“So… he was… pretty?”

“By your human standards, yes. But he was much more than that.” Regis leaned back and for a moment M-21 almost lost his balance, but the brat quickly realised his mistake and returned to the previous position. “I’m sorry.” He sounded flustered. “I meant to say that sir Reginald was… exceptional.”

“Heh. Okay. So… you look like him… and why are you… unhappy?”

“I’m not unhappy!”

“...you’re sulking… how many?”

“Thirty eight. I’m not sulking! I just… I think you wouldn’t understand…”

Okay, that one stung. What was he, not human _enough_ ? _Too human_?

“...try me…” M-21 growled out. Damn Nobles and their damn prejudices!

Regis had to realise the misstep, because he was silent for a solid minute. He even put one hand on M-21’s shoulder, unsure and light like a feather. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it in any negative way. I just hoped that I would look more like a Landegre when I grew up.”

Wait, wait, wait. This needed a moment.

Two pushups short of the mark, M-21 stopped the exercise and lowered his body to the floor, leaning on the elbows so he could turn his head back. “I may be wrong, but you’re hard to mistake for any other clan,” he deadpanned.

Regis was unimpressed with the long once-over he’s got and the words caused him to snort inelegantly - something he instantly seemed mortified of. “The hair is not everything!” He snapped back from his perch on the ex-human’s back. “That’s about the only thing I’ve got from my clan, everything else is a reflection of my father! And his elegance is hard to match, so I’m left... “

“Wait.”

M-21 was experiencing some sort of a mental reboot. So he twisted slowly on his back to let more air reach his brain or something. Forced to uncross his legs by the sudden move, Regis ended up sitting awkwardly on his stomach. He made a move to stand up or shift to the floor, - anything that would put distance between them, but a pair of hands falling on his knees stopped him. M-21 held him in place and looked at him with suspicion.

“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You look like your father, but not like a Landegre.”

“Yes. Can you let me...”

The fingers on his knees tightened.

“But, if I remember what Gejutel said correctly, your father was a Landegre. So what, he didn’t look like the old man and the rest of the family and that’s the problem?”

A new light entered the Noble’s eyes, as understanding slowly dawned on him. “You speak of my sire.” He nodded. “My father was a Royard.”

M-21 looked as if he's been told that the Earth is flat and was expected to believe it.

“So, Gejutel had a daughter?” He asked helplessly.

“... what?”

“What?”

There was a headache coming and both of them felt it. Both confused and out of sorts.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but from what you just said I understood that you’ve had two fathers.”

 _Please, correct me_ , M-21 begged in his mind. The Wolf whined in agreement.

“I’ve had a father and a sire.” Regis said carefully. “Which, in human terms, _may_ mean two fathers, yes.”

Damn him.

“So what, you were adopted?” M-21 mumbled before he’s managed to think about it.

“I beg your pardon!” Predictably, the Noble got angry.

  


*

  


M-21 expected to see his bed empty after he came back from  taking a shower, that the kid, affronted to the bone with his previous thoughtless insinuation, will leave. But he didn’t. And now he was laying next to a sulking Noble twit.

And it felt awful.

“This is just strange to me, that’s all,” he muttered in lieu of an apology. “How does that even work? How do the kids come out of it?”

The implication of that whole mess was startling and not a bit sickening. Men could not… surely, even the Nobles had to… or could they? Get pregnant?

“Can we not talk about it?” Regis turned away from him.

 

“Okay.”

Minutes passed while the TV murmured softly in the background.

“Then that means you and Seira are related.”

“Why would we be?”

“Well, because her…her?”

“Sir Reginald was her mother’s older brother.”

“Yeah... for humans, that’s a family right there. She’s your cousin or something...”  

The cotton caterpillar wiggled for a while until the part with the face turned to the ex-human.

“Is that how it works in the human world?”

“Yeah,” M-21 answered, hoping that he’s not muddling it up. What he knew about humans was taught to him and not in any way instinctual. “It’s about whom you’re sharing blood with.”  
  
“ Oh.” He could swear that Regis blushed. “Well, it’s the same with the Nobles…”  
  
M-21 had a feeling that a misunderstanding was just being born, so he hurried to clarify. “I mean, in the hereditary sense. Children are born and their parents’ families are theirs. Then they marry and their partners’ families become theirs too.” He was muddling. “You get me?”  
  
“ I think I do…” The Noble said slowly. “But that… that’s awfully precarious, don’t you think? Seems like a chancy method if one wants to establish a strong clan.”  
  
“ I don’t think that humans have this in mind when they fall in love and have children. From what I’ve seen so far, they don’t think at all when feelings take over. They just… get together, I guess.” A beat. “Does it seem strange to you?”  
  
He’s had a hard time believing it, especially with the most drastic proof living under the same roof. Rael was borderline obsessed, sure, and his version of love wasn’t exactly the healthiest, but he was, unarguably, in love with Seira. Not even mentioning the way that the previous Lord – they had to finally find a name for the man, a less confusing one – acted towards Raizel. If sealing your own soul for a few hundred years on an off chance that you’d meet someone wasn’t love, M-21 didn’t know what deserved the name.  
  
But then… Nobles were so strange already, so different in the littlest details. Every time M-21 thought he has them sorted out, another thing was there to mess with his brain. Was it so hard to believe that even such basic concepts as love were different with the beings that could live, basically, forever?  
  
“ Don’t Nobles fall in love?” It was such a sad idea.  
  
“ Of course they… we do,” Regis mumbled, correcting himself halfway through. “Just not so… so… humans do everything so carelessly!” He huffed. “Never stopping and thinking things through! Such short lives and yet they keep wasting them in stupid ways!”  
  
M-21 didn’t feel that he has any right to argue, he was hardly the most level-headed of his species – whatever specie it was.  
  
“ But, two fathers?” His brain returned to the matter at hand.  
  
“ Ugh, I told you that I don’t…”  
  
“ Then tell me the mechanics behind it.” Morbid fascination didn’t allow him to drop it. “How do Noble babies come to be?” That, and watching Regis’ facial gymnastics was _so_ worth it. “You do have babies, don’t you? Or are everyone born as royal brats four feet tall?”  
  
“ Five!” The royal brat growled savagely and pushed at the ex-human before realising that the issue of his height stopped being an issue around two weeks ago. “You…!”  
  
M-21 couldn’t help a chuckle that escaped him, for which he was whacked on the arm. “So, no babies?”  
  
“ There are babies! Of course there are babies! What are you even insinuating, you rude, insensitive…”  
  
“ But how?” Oh, he’s done it now, Regis looked like he wanted to smother him with his bare hands. Pity that only one of them was fully operational. “Because it’s either that Noble guys can carry, or…”  
  
“ Out of our blood!” A pillow connected with his chest, laughably unthreatening for a modified human experiment that could – and often did – shake off a bullet, but Regis got points for the effort. “How dense can you be?! Children are made out of blood!”  
  
Oh god, now he could not stop laughing, even though the assault with the pillow didn’t cease. Regis looked ready to murder him on the spot and M-21’s mind for some reason found it hilarious.  
  
“ Stop laughing at me!”  
  
“ No… _wait…_ ” Gasp. “ _Ahaha_ ... wait…”  
  
“You…!”

“Your… your hand… _ehehe_ stop…”  
  
In the end the only way in which the attack could be stopped was a physical intervention. A few times in this life M-21 as grateful for his superior strength as much as he was now, because the brat might have been weak, but his limbs were way too long and folding him to lay against the ex-humans’ chest took entirely too much work.  
  
“Unhand me!”  
  
“I… _wait…_ ” He tried to breathe, but occasional bursts of laughter still got in the way of that. “Wait… stop… god…”  
  
The Wolf was having a time of its life, yapping and nipping at his mind. What the hell, beast, help me out instead of acting like a moron!

_Bite him._

...what?

_Bite him. Pack. Calm him down. Bite._

No _fucking_ way!

“Okay, brat, calm down and I will… _heh_ … I will.” Not bite you for certain!

Slowly, but surely Regis calmed down; he stopped flailing and hissing, and turned limp in the M-21’s embrace.

“Sometimes I dislike you,” he mumbled, curling up in a tight ball around his braced hand, probably embarrassed by the emotional display even Sir Gejutel would scowl at. “So very, very much.”

“I know.” M-21 sometimes disliked himself too, but this time he was quite satisfied with himself. The brat was sulking again, sure, but at least in his usual way. The gloom from before was strange and uncomfortable, M-21 didn’t quite know how to deal with it. “But you’re annoying, too, so we’re even.”

The answer was another mumble that M-21 ignored. Instead, he reached for the remote and poked the buttons at random. It was late and the outburst had to tire the Noble more than he expected, because by the time the TV flashed out and dimmed, Regis was almost asleep; the argument had to be postponed for tomorrow.

“Hey, don’t worry,” M-21 whispered, pulling the covers over himself, hoping that he won’t be heard. The Wolf insisted that he reassures the Noble in some way, so he wrecked his brain for something appropriate to say. “This doesn’t change anything, you know? You’re still you, even if you don’t look like your strange family.”

The Wolf made a sound akin to facepalming, and M-21 wanted to snarl at it, because fuck this, the beast should’ve known better than to leave it to him!  But the bundle in his arms didn’t react to the words, so they both assumed that Regis was already asleep.  

*

His dreams were… bad.

Needles and knives tearing his skin, ripping him open, pushing and pulling things from his insides. Scientists in white coats crowding around him, narrating every bit of pain with words that washed into a humdrum of unintelligible noise.

He struggled, but, as always, he could do nothing. He tasted chemicals on his tongue when cold water surrounded him, pushing down his throat.

“ _Shhh…_ ”

He was cold. So very cold, always, there was never any light in the labs, no comfort, no mercy. Just pain, and darkness and cold...

“ _Shhh…_ ”

...the Wolf was absent, the voice in his head, the presence inside of his mind gone, he was alone…

“ _...breathe…_ ”

...cold and alone…

“ _...breathe, M-21…_ ”

...alone…

“ _...breathe…_ ”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry for being a dick and not updating sooner>__>  
> The bock I hit on this story and my obsession with Bloodborne seemed to coincide and this story went on the backburner - but I am working on it. Slowly. In small bits. but I am!  
> Today's offering isn't big, true, but it offers the POV we haven't had the pleasure to see yet;]

He couldn’t sleep.

He could pretend that he did, very well in fact, so well that he could easily fool not only a daft ex-human, - he could almost fool himself into thinking that he’s resting. It was one of the few useful things left to him after the poison incapacitated his body in all ways that counted.

But not today. Was that too being taken from him? Was he really losing the last shreds of his Noble constitution on behalf of the weak humanity? He could not switch his mind off, persistent thoughts and fears swirled around in his head, one worse than the other.

There were also the arms encircling him, heavy and tight even three hours after their owner fell asleep. Usually, the way M-21 embraced him at night didn’t feel this constraining – the opposite, actually, even if Regis found it hard to admit. Usually, it felt… comforting.

If he was in his right state, he wouldn’t feel the weight.

But then, if he was in his usual state the whole thing wouldn’t be necessary.

Not that it was necessary, per se, just that… the pain was really severe and in some strange way M-21 was the only person who was able to do a thing that even the Homeowner couldn’t accomplish. It was just touch, nothing special, - as far as Regis was aware, the ex-human hasn’t been ‘blessed’ by the scientists that worked on him with any special abilities apart from his basic upgrades. Maybe it was the werewolf part of him that knew what to do?

The thing was - the pain was not an issue today. Regis still felt overtired, cold and hungry almost all the time, but today his spine worked as it should without sparkling with pain every time the Noble moved. The feeling of relief warred in his head with doubt, though, because there was no reason not to sleep in his bed today. An electric blanket could take care of the chill and he could watch the TV on the tablet that Ik-Han had given him without disturbing Seira. The Noble pride demanded of him to confess and leave, to let the ex-human have his personal space back.

Regis wasn’t stupid, he was aware that M-21 prized solitude, that he wasn’t eager for contact – unlike Tao, who craved it and Takeo, who seemed ambivalent, but accepting. Regis basically insinuated himself into the man’s life without asking, and the feeling of shame clawed at him every time he imagined what would his grandfather say if he knew.

A couple of times already he’s tried to silently get up and leave, but his every attempt was stalled by the arms tightening around him. M-21 was asleep, for god's’ sake, and yet was still vigilant and stubborn! What a bothersome person he was!

But then, Regis had to admit that he wasn’t trying very hard to get away or very angry about not being allowed to. Because, lying together like that felt…

He felt like a coward, a weakling, a being with no dignity, that had to hide behind someone else, because it was afraid of the dark.

And where was the lie? He was weak, he was afraid – the darkness was terrifying when one could not see past it. He was useless and needed help with things as basic as personal care.

He was horrified. For the last month, since the moment that the Homeowner looked at him from above the data pad and Regis saw pity in his eyes, there was not a day, not a moment, where he wasn’t scared for himself and for those that counted on him.

And then, on top of it all were the changes his body decided to undergo on its own, with no agreement from him. The growing spurt was distressing enough, the way his limbs were suddenly too long, too thin; the way his balance was thrown completely out of whack and his clothes stopped fitting him overnight - he’s spent two days wearing Tao’s spare pyjama before the Homeowner brought him new clothes. The humiliation of being injured by Rael Kertia of all people still made him pale whenever he thought about it. And in such an offhand way, too!

Lying awake in the dark, tracing the brace with shaking fingers, Regis could admit in front of himself that he has finally hit the rock bottom. Not only was he pathetically weak – now he was also dishonest towards the one person who repeatedly went out of their way to make his life easier.

No, this was not going to work!

Angered by his own mind putting him down, Regis struggled partially out of the embrace and reached for the remote. He needed a distraction.

The screen flared back to life and even without the sound, it was engaging enough to catch his attention sufficiently.

He didn't know that show, but there was a man and a woman, both young and good looking by human standards - another romantic comedy, then? Or another dramatic murderous romp? Anyhow, he was happy with either one.

It was harder to follow the plot with no sound, but he could deal with that too. Actually, the way his hearing weakened was at the same time distressing and - reliving, in a strange way. For the first time since he moved to Korea he had experienced true silence - the way humans did. At night the city was nearly noiseless now, in a way that a Noble’s keen hearing wouldn’t allow.

He could sleep undisturbed - whenever his body let him.

And evens leep felt different now, more… substantial. Overpowering?

Scary. Terrifying, when every awakening could mean even more changes he wasn’t prepared for.

The pair on the screen started to kiss. The man’s hands went to the woman’s blouse and the camera lingered for an unnecessary amount of time on the way buttons over her breasts popped open - and Regis turned his eyes away, uncomfortable enough to make his skin itch.

There went his distraction!

Did humans really enjoy watching members of their own specie being intimate with one another? Why? What was in it for them apart from mortification at the indecency of the whole endeavour? Did they, as it was said, get off on the inappropriateness of it the way some humans enjoyed barely evading death via assisted falling or driving really fast?

Humanity was such a confusing subject, every time Regis thought he had them figured out, they came up with something new that threw him off completely.

Huh, now the pair on the screen were both naked from waist up - he looked through his fingers, feeling curious and guilty for it. Maybe, if he treated it like cold-blooded research, it would help him keep his composure. Like that kindly Englishman in all these nature documentaries - just watching, trying to understand, nothing improper here, carry on.

Humans were a different specie, after all, right? He could…

He froze when the arms around him tightened momentarily. A full-body shudder shook M-21 from head to toes, and, as it goes, reverberated through Regis’s spine.

The sound that followed was like something between a whine and a gasp. A moan of pain and fear cut off by the lack of air.

Oh, so it has started again.

Regis palmed the remote letting the darkness claim the bedroom once more. He didn't need light now, preferred not to have it to be honest for what he was about to do.

“Shh,” he muttered. “Breathe, M-21, breathe…”


End file.
